The Second Star To The Right
by Ice Spectre
Summary: Wesley Crusher's temporal talents pique the interest of a race doomed to remain exactly as they are for all eternity.
1. Prologue

Prologue  
  
He reviewed the notable instances in his mind. This had not been the first time he'd seen the boy's potential. He had decided years before that the boy was beyond that which others of his kind were capable, had decided years before to call the boy to him. But this had been the first time he'd realized the boy needed no call. He could figure it out on his own.  
  
The alien had watched with boundless patience. Sooner or later, he knew, the young man would see what lay in store for him. Every situation, ever danger, every experience in his life had taught him that he was following the wrong course. This particular young man already seen that, but there are things we see at which we simply choose not to look.  
  
The boy was afraid that if he looked, he'd see something he wanted to be but could never be, something he would never have the courage to become.  
  
He had been taught for years - all his life - that a certain way was correct, another was less correct, still another was outright wrong. But now he was beginning to think it was all completely backward, and how could none of his kind see that? How could no one notice that what they believed in, what they had created, was entirely counterproductive to their own goal? For how much longer could he bear to be a part of something in which he did not believe?  
  
Of course, some small part of him soldiered on, arguing inanely that if he remained, ascended to power, he could effect positive change from within. But the dominant majority of his being longed for freedom from the confused efforts of a disorganized organization. With freedom, as all who have sought it and won it know, comes the "unknown" that all Humans seem to fear instinctively. Everything this young man had ever known was part of his current way of life. Changing it would mean abandoning everything -- abandoning aspects he loved along with those he deplored. He wanted - he needed - to remain near what was familiar. Or did he? Some questions are too frightening for prolonged exploration.  
  
The alien had more confidence in this young man than the young man had in himself. He was, after all, simply denying that he was at all different, more advanced, than most others of his race. The alien had perceived the boy's talent, if such a word could be used for such abilities, the first moment he had met him.  
  
The alien knew, however, that before the young man would be ready, he would become more lost than he could ever imagine. It had been years in the boy's linear way of thinking before he had even been able to take the first step.  
  
Still, the alien could not discount this episode in the boy's life so casually. This particular moment, for that is all it was: a moment, and at the same time, an eternal presence. It was neither a step nor a turning point, but signs of a breakthrough were beginning to show. The alien smiled gently, thinking how, if he were a Human, he would in all likelihood be looking through an old holophoto album and having similar thoughts.  
  
This temporal retrospection was his closest assimilation. Yet it was more than reminiscing. It was a study: less than scrutiny, more than observation. The alien was continually starting at the beginning and bringing the story up to present, searching through it for a new perspective brought with the passing of time. Perhaps it was like watching an old favorite film after many years, when time and experience have flavoured one's perspective upon the story.  
  
Yes.  
  
Then here again were his memories, like an old favorite film one sees again for the first time. 


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One  
  
Captain's Log, Stardate 44771.5: The Enterprise has received a distress signal from an unidentified ship in Sector 437. The signal was a computer-generated distress call, conforming to Starfleet regulation, although we have not yet been able to make any connection between this signal and any commissioned Federation ship, outpost or colony. However, the call specifically requested the aid of the Enterprise. There are four Federation starships slightly closer to the given coordinates: the starships Hood, Venture, Cavalier and Geneseo. These starships have been alerted by Admiral Thelasli in case of an emergency. At maximum warp, it will take us four days to reach the coordinates. For the endangered ship to be so selective about which Federation starship aids it, it mustn't be in very immediate danger.  
  
Guinan scanned the Ten-Forward room, considering which table to approach first. It seemed that every bridge crew member in the room was tense and in dire need of some mode of relaxation. From Captain Jean-Luc Picard right down to Ensign Wesley Crusher, everyone was here, their favorite haunt largely due to Guinan's presence. The Listener knew this, but she was distinctly good at being modest. She was wise beyond her years, which were not as few as one would think. She appeared to be a relatively young Human woman, but she was in fact centuries old, and not at all Human. She was the most gentle, soft-spoken, wise woman Picard had ever had the pleasure of knowing. Upon her unbidden word, Picard would set the Enterprise on self-destruct.  
  
Guinan decided that the senior officers' table would be a good place to start, and moved over to the table where Captain Picard sat with Commander William T. Riker, Doctor Beverly Crusher and Counselor Deanna Troi.  
  
"Hello, captain. Commander. Doctor. Counselor." Guinan nodded and smiled at each, "What can I get for you?"  
  
"Tea, Earl Grey, hot," the captain said absently. He was not looking at her. His chin was resting on his fist and he was staring out the tall observation windows into the starfield as it slowly drifted by, obviously worrying about their most current mission and the strange distress signal. His sentence had been a perfect imitation of what you would tell a food replicating unit if you wanted it to prepare Earl Grey tea for you.  
  
"I feel like your replicator, Jean-Luc," Guinan smiled gently. The captain allowed very few people, Starfleet or otherwise, to call him Jean- Luc. On the Enterprise, it was only those people currently at his table. And even his senior officers only did so in private. No one else would dare.  
  
The captain looked up at Guinan, mildly startled by his own episode of absence. For a brief second, Picard was mesmerized by Guinan's calming visage. Her smile began on her lips but spread to her dark-complected face, making her perfect skin glow with a warmth like the embers of a fire. Her deep brown eyes shone with an almost maternal comfort. Long black braids of thick hair were tucked back under a large dusty-purple colored hat with a flat top that matched her shapeless dress. How someone could appear so non-threatening and yet so powerful all at once was something the captain admired greatly, yet could not achieve, could barely comprehend.  
  
Picard dragged himself from his reverie and apologized. But of course, Guinan had not really been offended.  
  
"I'd like a Vulcan Sunrise," Deanna mused, lacing her slender fingers beneath the point of her chin. Beverly lifted her head.  
  
"Ooh, that sounds good. I'll have one of those too."  
  
"Coffee, black," Riker winked at Guinan. She nodded and walked away. Guinan never wrote anything down. She had never needed to. She never confused things or forgot what someone wanted. Often, she didn't even have to ask what someone wanted; she just knew.  
  
Picard breathed deeply. Everyone on his ship was able to draw strength from him, and he would have it no other way. But he couldn't help being grateful that there was someone somewhere on his ship from whom he could draw strength.  
  
"Captain, this distress signal worries me," Deanna scrunched up here eyebrows. "It was very unusual. Why would a ship request aid expressly from the Enterprise when we are so far away? And why not even identify itself?"  
  
Picard raised his eyebrows and frowned, in lieu of shrugging his shoulders.  
  
Riker answered, "Evidently they want Starfleet's best. It must be very important to them, but not very urgent."  
  
"Yes, but that does not explain why they did not identify themselves," Picard reminded him. "If they have the time to wait four days for us to get there, why did they not have the time to tell us what is happening? I can't imagine why they wouldn't have thought of that. They must know it would only help us in locating them. Or in being prepared to aid them. Or any number of things."  
  
Riker nodded. "The coordinates are far from the Neutral Zone, and equally far from Cardassian Space or Borg Space. We can probably rule out some kind of trick."  
  
"I'm not ruling out anything yet, Number One."  
  
"Do you suppose it might be a Federation Outpost?" Deanna asked. "Outside of the Federation, I've never seen a distress signal pattern anything like that."  
  
"I've never seen anything like it either," Riker agreed, "but we have no Outpost anywhere near there. Not even in neighboring sectors, we've checked."  
  
Guinan subtly placed drinks in front of their distracted owners without drawing notice. Riker instinctively gripped the handle of his coffee mug.  
  
Beverly sighed in frustration. "I think you've all forgotten the possibility that it's a real, honest-to-God distress call. Yes, it makes no sense that they requested a starship so far away. Yes, it's strange that they didn't even identify themselves. There could be perfectly reasonable explanations for all of these things that they didn't have time to give over a repeating, recorded, automated distress signal. So rather than worrying about what sort of trap it might be, we should be prepared to deal with a real situation."  
  
"I agree," Picard mediated. "We cannot rule out the most likely possibility of this being a legitimate situation of distress. But we also cannot rule out the possibility of threat. We shall still approach this with caution."  
  
End of discussion.  
  
* * *  
  
"Hey, Crusher!" called Acting Ensign Billy Nolan from across Ten- Forward. Beverly's son cringed in his chair at the table he was occupying alone. Without even looking up, Ensign Wesley Crusher knew who was calling him, and he did not want to see him. Billy strode across the lounge with a girl at his side. Wesley recognized the girl as Billy's cousin Karen. Great.  
  
"Hiiii Wesleeeeeyy..." Karen breathed in a sing-songy voice and with a dreamy expression on her face. It was all Wesley could do to keep from groaning. This girl was thirteen, five years younger than Wes, and had one doozy of a crush on him.  
  
"Crusher, do me a favor, would ya?" Nolan plopped Karen down in the chair across from Wesley, who had been enjoying sitting alone for a few moments. "Keep an eye on her while I go for my defense class? Thanks!" And before Wesley could answer that he had other things to do (and think up what they were), Nolan was out the door. Wesley looked at the girl sitting across from him and half-smiled with defeat. She was not a bad-looking girl, she was cute. And too young. And annoying. Not that she meant to be, she was just always there whenever Wes turned around. And grinning at him. How dare she.  
  
Karen gazed at Wesley. It wasn't difficult to locate the causes of her infatuation. He'd been something of a legend among the younger residents of the Enterprise - their occasional hero. But beyond that, he was tall and slender and attractive, with dark brown hair and huge brown eyes fringed with the long lashes that boys were always blessed with and girls had to use mascara to achieve. He was cute, in a dopey sort of way. But 'dopey' was the last word one would ever use to describe Wes Crusher. He was easily the most intelligent eighteen-year-old aboard the Enterprise, if not in a large part of Starfleet. Even so, he was not calculating. Everything he did was performed as if by instinct. Even genius inventions seemed to come from him with unassuming impetuosity, but immediately followed by a self-indulgent twinge of smugness and pride. He had a sweet, innocent way of doing things, nothing like all the other guys his age. He was as artless with women as one who had never dated before, much to Wesley's chagrin. But that's what made him seem so harmless, and made it easier for young women to feel more at ease around him. This only served more to baffle the poor ensign.  
  
"Hi, Karen," Wesley managed.  
  
"Hi," she sighed.  
  
His brow furrowed. He'd been responding to her greeting. "We covered that," he said, already uncomfortable.  
  
"Oh," she giggled. "Right."  
  
He stared at her. She looked down, blushing a little. Wes bit his lip and glanced around the room, casting about for some escape from the silence. Karen crossed her legs. Then uncrossed them again. Feeling uncomfortable both with her legs crossed and with them uncrossed, she opted for crossing just her ankles.  
  
"Um, so how's school?" Wes ventured.  
  
"Okay," she blushed again.  
  
Wes nodded. Karen looked down at her hands folded on the tabletop, then removed them from the table and folded them in her lap, not raising her eyes. Wes sighed and rolled his eyes. This was almost as boring as a shuttle trip with Worf.  
  
Guinan came to the rescue.  
  
"Hi, Guinan!" Wesley was thrilled to see someone with whom he could have an actual conversation. "Been busy around here, huh?"  
  
"Nothing I can't handle," Guinan decided to allow him those few minutes of conversation before asking for his order and leaving. Wes appreciated this immensely.  
  
"It looks like the entire bridge crew, most of Engineering and half of Security are down here. I guess we all have the same mode of relaxation."  
  
"Tell me about it. The holodecks are all full, an so's my bar. Everyone has been a little on edge about this new development," Guinan said ambiguously, leaving a topic of conversation for the two. "A clear ether?"  
  
"Yeah," Wes was not amazed by her knowing what he wanted. A clear ether was his usual. "Thanks."  
  
Guinan tilted her head toward Karen. "Something for you?"  
  
"Um, the same?"  
  
Wes rolled his eyes. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, he reminded himself, which didn't seem to make it any less annoying.  
  
"You got it." Then Guinan was off. Wes watched her until she was all but lost in the tiny crowd filling Ten-Fore. He was sorry to see her go, not just because she was distracting him from Karen, but because he truly enjoyed talking to Guinan. She was one of the few adults on the ship who didn't patronize him. And she never gave advice, but more like lead him to advice. She would turn the conversation until Wes came up with the answers to his questions and dilemmas on his own. Wes found that a lot easier than talking to Deanna Troi about his problems. Besides, Deanna always looked so concerned, as if he were in severe trouble, or as if he were deeply disturbed. Talking to Guinan was more like talking casually to a friend. In fact, that's exactly what it was.  
  
"What's happening on the bridge?" Karen asked, eyes huge and enthralled.  
  
"Well, I shouldn't really discuss it. We just have to delay our current mission for a little while."  
  
"What for?"  
  
"I'm not really supposed to talk about it," Wesley wished Guinan had brought up a less confidential topic of conversation.  
  
"Is it about that distress call? The one that's the same as a Federation one but isn't a Federation one?"  
  
"So much for secrets on a starship..." Wesley muttered.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Are we in any danger?"  
  
"No, no," Wesley comforted, folding his arms on the tabletop, "Not at all. Don't worry about it."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"I'm sure," he smiled.  
  
"Wesley? Do-- do you have a girlfriend?"  
  
"Uhh..."  
  
* * *  
  
Chief of Engineering Geordi LaForge entered Ten-Forward and headed straight for the captain's table. The captain was sitting over by the windows, so Geordi had to pass Wesley and Karen to get to the captain. Wesley had been looking around the room, frantically fishing for an escape, when he saw Geordi come in.  
  
"Geordi!"  
  
Geordi halted in his tracks, a little surprised, then relaxed. "Hey, Wes," he said cheerfully, then started towards the window tables again.  
  
"Wait!" Wesley cried, a little too desperately. Then he calmed his voice, "Wh-What's going on down in Engineering?"  
  
Geordi shrugged. "The usual. See you later, Wes."  
  
"Geordi!" Wesley was not letting him get away that easily, "Don't you need any help down there? I mean, I'm not on duty right now, and I'm free for a little while, so--"  
  
"I appreciate the offer, Wes, but there's really nothing extra to do. But, thanks. I won't forget it next time I have to run diagnostics."  
  
With that, he was gone.  
  
Defeated, Wesley turned back with a half-hearted smile to the starry- eyed girl across the table from him. Now what?  
  
* * *  
  
Geordi continued towards the captain's table shaking his head. Wes sure was acting weird just then, he thought. Then it occurred to him.  
  
Geordi tried to stifle a laugh. Now he wished he'd known what Wes was doing while he was talking to him. A situation like that has a lot of potential for humor.  
  
"Geordi," Captain Picard smiled. "How is everything down in Engineering?"  
  
"Running smoothly, captain, although you're the second person to ask me that in less than a minute. The more people ask me if everything's okay, the sooner a problem comes up."  
  
"Then we won't ask anymore," Riker grinned. "Have a seat, Mr. LaForge."  
  
Geordi turned to pull a chair over to the end of the table.  
  
Geordi LaForge was fairly young to be Chief Engineer. Already a young lieutenant when he was assigned to the Enterprise, he had advanced very quickly through the ranks to Chief of Engineering.  
  
Geordi was born blind and wore a silver prosthetic device called a VISOR over his eyes to help him "see". He couldn't see what Humans saw, like colors and dimensions, but he saw electromagnetic patterns, outlines, X-rays, areas of heat and cold, he could even sense a subtle change in a person's facial expression better than sighted people could because of the detection of heat. He could tell the chemical makeup of an object by looking at it. His VISOR-aided sight was far superior to any Human sight. But he'd had to train himself to see as he does, and there was an ever- present dull ache he dealt with to pay for it.  
  
Geordi was one of the most cheerful people on the Enterprise despite his frustration over his blindness and his constant pain from the device he wore. In fact, no one knew he had any pain whatsoever until, in a moment of exasperation (feeling the effects of Romulans having tampered with his VISOR), he vented to Beverly Crusher in sickbay about how no one appreciated what he goes through and he is often taken for granted. Geordi had later apologized for his outburst, insisting that he had not meant a word of it, but the evidence of truth in his professions at the time remained with Beverly for a long time afterwards.  
  
One of Geordi's closest friends, surprisingly enough, was the android, Lieutenant Commander Data. Laborious Federation deliberations determined that Data was "alive" by all definition of the word, even though the android had no capacity for emotion. Geordi felt himself drawn toward Data because of their similarities. They privately called themselves "The Perceivers" because of their different and unique views of life, caused by their differences from fully biological beings. Additionally, the part of Geordi that was mechanical made him feel somewhat similar to Data, who was all mechanical.  
  
Although Geordi had his favorites, there were very few people aboard who could not call him a friend.  
  
Geordi slid into the chair he had pulled up to the end of the square table for four against the window wall. He was not there to report anything in particular, but now he had a mission of mercy for anyone who could oblige.  
  
"I think our friend Wes could use some help," Geordi said with a jerk of his head in the young ensign's direction, "if anyone can think up a reason for him to leave quickly and quietly."  
  
All four officers looked over at once, then back at Geordi.  
  
Picard's jaw muscles tightened. He was staying out of this one.  
  
"I think that's my job," Beverly sighed.  
  
"Beverly," Deanna stopped her friend with a hand on her arm. "Do you really think he wants his mother to go over there and rescue him? We must be sensitive to the delicate ego of a teenage boy," she smirked. "I'll go."  
  
"Would someone explain to me what the hell is going on?" Riker asked in mild frustration, glancing back and forth at the two women who had both risen from their seats but had made no move towards Wesley yet.  
  
"Wes has a persistent admirer," Geordi smiled. "He practically begged me for something to do in Engineering, but I didn't figure out what was going on until it was too late."  
  
"Well, then. I think I can handle this one," Riker grinned. "This is my area, anyway."  
  
Riker stood, straightened the top of his uniform and strode over to Wesley's table, looking tall, intimidating, tall, commanding, and pretty damned tall.  
  
"I think he would have been better off with you," Deanna smirked as Beverly sank back into her seat. Picard lifted an eyebrow.  
  
* * *  
  
"Mister Crusher," Riker addressed him. Wesley stood, his height stopping just short of Will's. Wes grabbed the waistband of his new red and black command uniform top and attempted an imitation of the crisp, sharp tug the captain had perfected, succeeding only in looking like he was trying to squirm through the neckhole. Riker tried not to laugh.  
  
"Yes, sir?"  
  
"I'm glad I found you here, ensign. I need you to work on something. Are you busy now?" Wesley breathed in, formed his mouth to say "Well...", and started to gesture towards Karen, but Riker interrupted him before he could make a sound. "This is important, ensign."  
  
Wes breathed out and dropped his hand. Riker, somehow, had figured out that Wes wanted out of here, and he was going to help him. Since when does an important assignment wait until you bump into each other in a bar, rather than using communicators? Now all Wes had to do was play along.  
  
"No, I'm free, sir."  
  
Karen watched all this in awe. She, a mere civilian, was watching two Starfleet officers in action. Wesley's so cute when he's being given orders, she gazed at him.  
  
Riker figured this girl knew nearly nothing of starship operation, so he used some fake terminology to clue Wes in that he didn't want the ensign to actually go do what he was about to tell him to do. But he got a bit carried away with it, taken in by his own cleverness. "I'm going to have to run a check on the warp inducers first thing tomorrow."  
  
Warp inducers?, Wesley thought, This is definitely going to be good.  
  
"I need you to check the phase containment nacelles and compare the output ratio to the average trajectory of the matter/anti-matter converters."  
  
A trajectory for matter/anti-matter converters! And just where would you like our warp core launched to, sir? Wes bit down on the insides of his cheeks in an attempt not to burst out laughing.  
  
"Then cross-power the warp engines with the aft phaser array power source to keep from burning out the life support systems in Main Engineering."  
  
Would that be so we can launch breathable-air probes at warp nine, sir?  
  
"Be careful around the configurations for the transporter memory banks or we'll lose the patterns for every person on this ship."  
  
Wes pictured Worf materializing on a transporter pad with Deanna's head on his shoulders and the ensign almost lost it altogether.  
  
"I need that done by tonight, ensign. Think you can handle it?"  
  
Wes couldn't take much more of this. "Aye, sir," he managed to say with very little quaver in his voice.  
  
Riker nodded once and turned away. As soon as neither Wesley nor Karen could see his face, the First Officer broke into a wide grin, biting his bottom lip to suppress his laughter.  
  
Wesley was not feeling particularly guilty about leaving Karen unattended. The girl was thirteen years old and needed no babysitter. Billy had just dumped Karen on Wes because he knew it would annoy Wes and thrill Karen. She'd been living on this starship for almost five months, so she didn't need a tour guide, either. And even if she did, Wesley certainly wasn't itching to give her the grand tour. He was sure Data would be a better, if more boring, choice for that.  
  
"I guess I'd better get started," Wesley said as he looked down at an awed Karen Nolan.  
  
"Wow," she breathed, "you're the smartest person in the whole universe!"  
  
"Uh... right," Wes turned and strode out of Ten-Fore with obvious relief. Obvious, that is, to everyone but poor Karen Nolan.  
  
* * *  
  
"Mission accomplished," Riker slid back into his seat with a satisfied grin.  
  
"What did you do?" Deanna asked.  
  
"Used some techno-babble," Riker volunteered no more than that.  
  
"Oh, look," Deanna gazed sympathetically over at the table (and the girl) Wesley Crusher had just abandoned. "She's all alone now. I'll go and talk to her," she resolved. "She's definitely got a terrible crush on Wes, and that can be just as embarrassing for the crush-ee as it is for the crusher."  
  
Riker made a sickened face.  
  
Doctor Crusher scowled. "Oh, that's a pun, isn't it?" Troi smiled. "Well crafted," Beverly bit off sarcastically.  
  
Troi glided over to Karen's table. 


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two  
  
He watched unseen. Present in observing, yet observing what was no longer present. It was as if he were watching a performance of things that had already happened, and in a sense, he was doing exactly that. At this point, the boy had not been ready yet. But he was beginning to understand. Soon, the boy would realize his destiny, that he was far more advanced than the creatures with which he had, at this juncture in time, surrounded himself. But not yet. However, the next occurrences in his life were some of what taught him, and he'd begun to see.  
  
The alien had not worried at this point. He'd had all the time in the universe and he could have waited forever.  
  
* * *  
  
Robin Wallace walked down the hallway towards her defense class in Holodeck C. Her dream was to be in Security, which was good because she didn't have much of a head for Medical or Engineering. Neither did she like the idea of Command since she was timid about making life-and-death decisions in a split second. Making split-second life-and-death decisions, however, was the one and only thing about which Robin Wallace was timid.  
  
Just then, Wesley came striding around the corner from the opposite direction, headed for his quarters. Whenever Wes walked, he had been told, he bore the distinct look of someone who was hurrying somewhere, preoccupied. So at this moment he had been trying to look tall and confident, strutting around like Will Riker does, smiling and winking at every pretty female. If Wes Crusher winked at all the women, they'd think he'd lost his marbles. As soon as he caught sight of Robin coming from the other direction, he reverted to his normal walk, blushing slightly.  
  
"Hi, Wes!" Robin smiled beautifully. To Wesley, everything Robin did was beautiful. Robin had met Wesley two weeks ago in her Astrophysics class. He was really good with that sort of thing, and before long he was helping her with it outside the classroom. They had become fast friends. There was a growing attraction between them, Robin could tell, but it was still in its very early and awkward stages. She turned to walk with him, back the way she had come. "Where are you headed so quickly?"  
  
"Hi, Robin," Wes smiled back at her. Great. I look like I'm hurrying again. "I was just going back to my quarters for a couple of minutes before my shift starts on the bridge."  
  
"It must be so great working on the bridge," Robin mused.  
  
"Yeah, sometimes," Wes breathed. "But it usually gets boring. I'm never there when anything exciting happens."  
  
"Yeah, right," Robin elbowed him. "You've gotten into your share of scraps. I knew your name before I knew your face: 'Wesley Crusher saves the Enterprise... again!'"  
  
"I don't do it that often," Wes sort of hated that subject. It sort of... separated him. People tended to give him a nice wide berth, too, as if they thought he might throw up a portable forcefield on the spot, sparks flying from his fingertips like some sort of wizard or something. He decided to change the subject. "Robin, weren't you going in the other direction?"  
  
"Yeah, but I don't feel like being on time for defense class," she grinned mischievously. ...and beautifully. "Don't mind my company, do you?"  
  
"Not at all! So I guess we're both escaping something," Wes laughed.  
  
"What are you escaping?"  
  
"Karen Nolan."  
  
"Who's Karen Nolan?" Robin was surprised to hear a twinge of jealousy in her voice. Wesley was thrilled to hear a twinge of jealousy in her voice. For a split second, Wes considered and rejected the idea of telling Robin that Karen was some very beautiful and mysteriously intriguing older woman who was after him. Had he more time to think about his fabrication, he might have. But Wes was an awful on-the-spot liar, which is not an altogether bad quality in a person.  
  
"Some thirteen-year-old girl who's got a crush on me. She's not obnoxious or anything, I just feel like I'm tripping all over her. Whenever I turn around, she's right there watching me, following me, doing everything I do..."  
  
Robin turned to look over her shoulder, behind Wesley. Wes stopped walking, wondering what Robin was doing.  
  
"Well, she's not there now," Robin smiled, "I guess we're alone."  
"I guess we are."  
  
Robin leaned towards Wes, taking hold of his upper arms. Wes felt himself slip his arms around her waist without remembering having told his arms to do that. He could hear his heart beating in his head. She's going to kiss me!  
  
He closed his eyes and heard a gratingly horrible sound. The sound of Billy Nolan's voice.  
  
"Hey, Crusher!"  
  
Robin and Wes turned around, surprised and embarrassed.  
  
"Oh, did I interrupt something?" Billy grinned.  
  
Wes glared at him. Boy, did you ever.  
  
"Excuse me, ladies, but I have to be off to a man's class. First day of Defense, I can't be late. You should try it sometime, Crusher, if you think you can handle it." Billy placed a hand in the center of Wes's chest and shoved. Wes stepped back with one foot to keep from falling backward, but made no countering move other than to glare murderously at Billy's retreating back.  
  
"Oh, and Crusher, I hope you haven't lost Karen."  
  
Robin and Wes watched him go. Wes's face burned with humiliation and anger.  
  
"He's going to get quite a surprise when he finds me in that 'man's class' he's off to," Robin grinned and glanced over at Wesley. He was still glaring down the corridor towards where Billy had gone. "Don't worry about it, Wes. He's a jerk," Robin touched her fingers under his chin and kissed him quickly on the lips. "See you later!"  
  
She took off down the corridor, leaving Wes in complete shock. His eyes were wide and sparkling and his mouth hung slightly open. He watched her walk down the corridor and around the corner but he still stood there for a long moment.  
  
She kissed me!  
  
* * *  
  
"Enter," Data called from inside his quarters. Geordi walked through the doors to find Data sitting at his computer desk, studying Spot, his cat.  
  
"Hi, Data," Geordi smiled. "You wanted to see me?"  
  
"I took your advice regarding my poetry, and attempted to write about a specific object of some importance to me. I also attempted to use "poetic license" by concentrating my efforts on the image rather than the meter. Although I must admit, I found this particular method more difficult."  
  
"That was always easier for me," Geordi was no longer surprised that Human shortcuts were very often longer for his android friend. Iambic pentameter came much more easily to androids than imagery did.  
  
"Geordi," Data used his well-practiced "mildly surprised" expression, the only facial expression the android had been able to perfect, "I was not aware that you wrote poetry."  
  
"Well, I don't. Not really. But I had to try it for a class once."  
  
"If you do not mind, I would like to read your poems sometime."  
  
"If I still have them," Geordi began, "but first let's hear yours."  
  
"I have chosen Spot as the subject of my poem."  
  
"Great! Fire away," Geordi leaned back in the chair. Data was no longer confused by Geordi's colloquialisms. Perhaps in earlier days Data would have asked Geordi what to fire at, but Data was now familiar with that particular phrase. Geordi couldn't help being relieved that Data was not at the Ops station on the bridge when he heard that particular colloquialism for the first time. A war might have ensued.  
  
Data began his poem.  
  
"A domesticated carnivore of Felis Domestica,  
With striped or brindled orange hair,  
Resembling Abyssinian, Somali and Angora,  
Felines of this type are hardly rare.  
  
She can quietly stalk on her carpal pads  
Because her claw tendons are retracted.  
Her pupils narrow and irises widen  
When bright light is refracted.  
  
When prey is near, she--"  
  
"Data!" Geordi interrupted. Data stopped abruptly and looked up, naiveté reflected in his yellow eyes.  
  
"Is something wrong?" the android asked, unaware of any deviation from normal poetry.  
  
"You're defining a cat!"  
  
Data blinked. "Am I?"  
  
"Yes! Data, it's a good poem, but..." Geordi hesitated as if not to hurt Data's feelings, even though he didn't have any, "wasn't your original intention to be creative? Metaphorical?"  
  
Data began to compute. He cocked his head and his eyes moved very slightly, as if listening to a voice in his head. "Metaphor. The application of a word or phrase to an object or concept it does not literally denote in order to suggest comparison with another object or concept. Often applied in literature when--"  
  
"Maybe I can give you an example," Geordi interrupted. Data was used to being interrupted. He had made many studies of when to cease giving information, but it seemed that it was never correct, whether too much or too little. Humans were confounding that way. Data had been trying to perfect that concept since being commissioned to the Enterprise. Everyone had given up hope.  
  
Geordi continued, "In one of my poems I used this one: 'The blazing chariot of the sun pulled by horses of flame burned a fiery path across the raging sky.'"  
  
Data was wordless for a moment. "I am impressed, Geordi. I did not know you could describe such a scene. You have never witnessed it the way a sighted being can see it."  
  
"That's just it. It's not the way people see it, it's the way I see it. But it's pretty close to the same thing, I've been told. Heat detection," Geordi tapped his VISOR.  
  
"Of course."  
  
"You could do personification. That's giving living traits to a non- living thing. Making it like a person," Geordi spared Data the trouble of looking that one up in his positronic dictionary. "If I were to change the image I just gave you, um... The fiery monarch of the sun rose to his feet and all his subjects of shadow fell to their knees before him."  
  
"Again," Data's eyes were wide, "I am impressed. As the sun rises, shadows are foreshortened. The image is apt, and powerful. Yet you thought of it in seconds."  
  
"Nah, it's really nothing," Geordi came just short of blushing. Then he sat up straight and pointed a finger at Data, "And if you tell a soul, I'll disassemble you!"  
  
Data's face was solemn, "It will be our secret, Geordi." He paused and created an approximation of dejection. "Perhaps you have a Human capacity for imagination that I have not yet mastered."  
  
"You'll get it, Data," Geordi comforted, "It's just something that comes with practice."  
  
Data's eyes seemed to turn inward, pondering. "Perhaps you are right. I will try again."  
  
"I'll leave you to it," Geordi stood. "See ya, Data."  
  
"Goodbye, Geordi," Data always seemed to say that with such finality, "and thank you." 


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three  
  
Billy Nolan was thoroughly bored with his Defense class. He had been startled enough to find out that the attractive girl Wes Crusher had been trying to kiss was in his class with him, and all he could think about was pursuing her. He wished the class would end so he could talk to her, find out her name, convince her that Crusher was a dork. How could she even allow him to get that close to kissing her when there were guys who were so much more attractive right under her nose? Like himself, for example.  
  
Lieutenant Worf taught this Defense class, and very well, as a matter of fact, but he hadn't called upon Billy to defend himself in the ring yet, and Billy's attention was wandering -- wandering to the girl Wes had been attacking in the hall.  
  
She was doubtless the prettiest girl in the class, at least in Billy's opinion. She was of an average height, but thin, and she had long auburn hair that she had pulled back into a tight braid for this class. In the hall with Crusher, it had hung in long, shining copper waves around her shoulders. She had emerald green eyes -- huge, beautiful eyes. At this moment, she was wearing a loose-fitting martial arts gi, whereas in the hall, she had been wearing a black and security-mustard one-piece stretch suit. She was thin, but not so thin that she might be passed off as weak. She had a certain... well, spark about her. Billy couldn't think of a word for it. It was like a sense of adventure, a subtle warning that she might not be as benign as she appeared. This intrigued him. He pegged her for 21 years old, and he was excellent at guessing age. Especially since he knew she had just graduated from the Academy this year, and most cadets enter at 18 and graduate at 21. If they pass the first test, which he had not. Nor the second. He knew she was taking extra classes even though she had already graduated with full honors, but what he couldn't figure out was why. The idea of self-betterment never occurred to him.  
  
He was determined to meet her after class, then set up a meeting after hours. It was against the rules for a good-looking young man such as himself to lose a girl to a dork like Wes Crusher. Billy Nolan was self- proclaimed to be one of the most attractive young men on the Enterprise, which was pretty much the truth anyway. But Wes Crusher wasn't too far behind him, and not by the young ensign's own polls, either.  
  
"Remember," Worf's bass voice rumbled, "whenever someone approaches with this tactic, they will not succeed if you counter with this..." Worf's voice sounded to Billy's ears as if it trailed off into the distance. He was not paying attention. Rather than learning the defense tactic, he had made a formal study out of exactly which tactic to use on this girl when he met her after class. Not that he would have to try very hard. If Crusher wasn't having much trouble, for Billy it would be a snap.  
  
Suddenly the girl stood up and stepped into the ring. Worf had called on her to demonstrate the technique. And Billy had missed her name! He replayed the last few seconds of time in his mind but could not find anywhere in his short-term recall the name Lieutenant Worf had said just seconds ago. Oh well. He'd learn it soon enough.  
  
Worf was talking, narrating, but Billy wasn't listening. Worf and the girl stood in battle-ready positions and stalked around each other. The girl did not appear very harmless now. She was narrow-eyed and nothing but concentration -- there was that "spark" Billy had seen earlier, but now it was prevalent. Worf kicked and the girl used a low block, catching Worf's ankle against her wrist, her palm flat down. There was a soft "thunk" sound at the contact and one of the boys kneeling around the outside of the ring sucked air through his teeth. That had to hurt. But the girl's face gave no evidence of it if it had. She threw a middle punch and Worf dodged easily. They sparred for a few moments, the girl getting in one good punch that Worf almost allowed through his guard. The Klingon stopped to explain how one should never underestimate an opponent.  
  
Billy heard one of the younger girls near him whisper to a boy derisively, "Teacher's Pet." Billy was unaware that Klingons played favorites, but apparently they thought Worf had a favorite student in this girl. Billy could see why.  
  
Worf decided it was time to demonstrate the new tactic. He grabbed her wrist as she was throwing a punch and pulled her towards him, throwing her off balance. Then he flipped her over his shoulder and she landed on her back on the sparring mat with an "oof!"  
  
The girl leaped up and prepared again. This time, Worf threw the punch. The girl successfully flipped Worf onto his back, evoking quite a reaction from the rest of the class.  
  
Worf stood and completed the round with a Klingon obeisance of respect to the girl, which she returned, then sat back in her place at the edge of the ring. Worf went on to explain why someone of the girl's size could flip someone so much larger then she, comparing the tactic to the martial art Aikido.  
  
"You are not lifting them. You are simply aiding their own force of momentum. The only force you need is the inertia they are already providing by moving towards you. It requires little mass or strength to..."  
  
For Billy Nolan, time dragged on.  
  
* * *  
  
Counselor Deanna Troi appeared in the doorway of Doctor Crusher's office in sickbay. Crusher, half-drowned in work, files on computer PADDs, data clips, tricorders, records and the like, peeked up slowly from the mountain of work at her friend.  
  
"I'm disturbing you, aren't I?" Deanna started to take a step backward.  
  
"Yes, but please do," Beverly smiled wearily and gestured to a chair in front of her desk.  
  
"Are you sure?" Troi sat slowly. "I could come back later if you're busy. It's nothing important, really. I just felt like talking."  
  
"If you don't save me from this mess, no one will. What's on your mind? And don't tell me 'nothing' because I know there's something."  
  
"Sometimes I wonder if it's me or you who is the empath," the Betazoid laughed.  
  
"I'm not an empath, I'm one better: a mother." Then the smile fell away from Doctor Crusher's face. "It's the mission, isn't it," it wasn't a question. "The distress call."  
  
"Now I'm certain you're empathic," Troi's humor was gone, too. "I'm not certain of what it is, but I have a bad feeling about this mission. I don't think I would be able to sense danger to the ship from so far away, so it's probably only my own apprehension, or perhaps the apprehension of the majority of the ship's complement... but I feel worried."  
  
"What do you think you're worried about?"  
  
"I'm not sure," Deanna glanced meaningfully up at Beverly. "I just felt like I should tell you about it. Talk to you about it."  
  
"You're worried about me?" Beverly's eyebrows went up and her green eyes widened slightly.  
  
"No," Deanna was not really lying. She wasn't worried about Beverly, but was for some reason worried about... Wesley. It had just occurred to her this very second. Then, as quickly as the idea had come, like deja vu, it left. "I just had to talk to someone. Someone who would tell me that I'm being foolish and to stop worrying about nothing."  
  
"You're being foolish and stop worrying about nothing," Beverly's mouth curled into a smirk. Deanna had to smile back, even though she wasn't really relieved at all.  
  
"But what if it isn't just apprehension?" Deanna's smile fled again. "What if it's something so telepathically powerful that I can sense it from light years away?"  
  
"I doubt it, Deanna," the ever-practical Doctor Crusher tossed her orange hair and it tumbled over her shoulders. "Nothing like this has ever happened before, even when you've been in close contact with Q."  
  
At the mention of the Q Continuum, a thought occurred to Deanna, but she dismissed it so instantly that she barely remembered the thought.  
  
She shrugged. "I suppose you're right."  
  
But she knew she wasn't.  
  
* * *  
  
The alien knew at the time that it had been less than wise to "warn" them of the coming danger. They themselves had a rule they called the "Prime Directive" which labeled such actions as "wrong". The alien, in a loose comparison, had something similar. But he could not allow them to so blindly speed toward danger, especially with his valuable charge in tow. He had risked much to get that single warning through, and it had been dismissed as apprehension that was "foolish". Now all he could do was watch.  
  
* * *  
  
Robin Wallace was gathering her things from the corner of the holodeck when a hand reached down and picked up her bag for her. She straightened up to see who had assisted her.  
  
"Thanks," she said to a tall, well-built, attractive young man who had just hander her bag to her.  
  
"No trouble at all," the young man used a well-rehearsed smile. Robin had recognized him as the young man who had been harassing Wes in the corridor just two hours ago. She stared coldly at him.  
  
But to be completely fair... She raised an eyebrow appraisingly, an expression that did not go unnoticed by Billy. He was an extremely attractive young man, with brown hair, perfectly combed, handsomely chiseled features, and ice blue eyes. He had an Adonis-like physique, and a clever wit, despite the lack of evidence in his class marks to back that up. Also there was the fact that he was twenty years old and had not yet made it into Starfleet Academy. His Acting Ensign uniform was the yellow of Engineering. She wondered how many times he'd failed the entrance exam -- you're only allowed to fail it three times. She wondered if somewhere beneath the marble-statue perfection of his body, the enchantment of his face and the cool confidence and superiority complex, was he terrified of utter failure? She glanced into his eyes for a hint of that, but was startled to find that presently she couldn't see past the charming ice- blue.  
  
Billy took her scrutiny as encouragement. Apparently, this girl appreciated the company of a real man after having been with The Boy all afternoon.  
  
He was wearing a cocky grin that Robin could read like a book. Over- confidence. Not asking himself if she would say yes, but asking himself when. And being sure it would be soon. It would be hard to convince this gorgeous guy that he was really a loser, but she loved a challenge.  
  
"I'm Bill Nolan," the young man said. "Haven't I seen you around here somewhere before?"  
  
"Yes, in the corridor where you shoved my friend."  
  
Not enough to stump him. "Oh, yes," he smiled. "He was obviously bothering you. I've known Crusher for years, and he has a habit of boring the wits out of any beautiful woman who, unwittingly, gets too close. No need to thank me."  
  
"I won't. I actually like Wes."  
  
"You never did tell me your name," Billy changed the subject quickly.  
  
"There's a reason for that," Robin snapped.  
  
"See you later, Robin!" a girl from the class walked past and through the door. Robin scowled.  
  
"Robin," Billy mused. His intense eyes bored right into hers. She felt a bit warm. "What a beautiful name, very classic, almost Victorian era. It suits you. You have very regal features, very beautiful."  
  
"Thanks," Robin answered a little less flatly than she had intended. She tried to drag herself free from his spell.  
  
"Are you busy tonight?"  
  
"Oh, very."  
  
Billy's eyebrows went up. "All night?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"Tomorrow?"  
  
"No, I'm completely free tomorrow."  
  
Billy smiled. Gotcha. "Then what would you say to dinner?"  
  
"Oh, I well intend to have dinner tomorrow."  
  
"Would you permit me the singular pleasure of joining you?"  
  
"Mm, no."  
  
Billy was startled again. He opened his mouth as if about to ask her to repeat herself, since he obviously hadn't heard properly. She spared him the trouble.  
  
"You're not quite my type. Nice enough on the outside, but..." she tapped her temple with her forefinger, "nothing on the inside, know what I mean?" She shrugged innocently, as if she were the helpless victim of her mind's decision.  
  
Billy's jaw dropped, stunned and insulted.  
  
"Thanks, though." Robin left.  
  
Billy stood there, still too startled to know what to do next. Billy's friend Jason approached, hanging his bag over his shoulder.  
  
"Way to go, Ace," he punched Billy in the shoulder.  
  
Billy shook his head, still watching the door Robin had left through. "Crusher musta done something to her," Billy concluded.  
  
"Yeah, like treated her like a Human being?" he graced Billy with a sarcastic grin.  
  
"But look at him!" Billy protested angrily, throwing his towel at Jason. "He's this scrawny little science freak. He's barely half as good- looking as I am, and half my width. What's he got that I don't?"  
  
Jason tapped his temple with his forefinger in a perfect imitation of Robin's recent gesture. Then he hurled the balled-up towel back at his friend as he backed up toward the door. "B-ball in Holodeck A at 1500?"  
  
"I'm there, m'man," Billy answered half-heartedly while stuffing his towel into his bag.  
  
"Bring your rock, I hate those holodeck ones -- they just don't bounce the same. Later," Jason walked out. 


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four  
  
CAPTAIN'S LOG, STARDATE 44775.6: We have reached the coordinates where the distress call originated, but there is no ship in sight. Lieutenant Commander Data has been scanning the area, but can find neither indication of a ship nor any remainder of a ship. There is no sign of intelligence in this sector, and no trace of debris or anything else that might tell us what has happened. Lieutenant Worf is no longer receiving the distress signal. For some reason, we have been unable to trace its origin to any specific coordinates of late, we lost it thirteen hours ago.  
  
"Riker to Picard," Commander Riker stood on the bridge of the starship Enterprise and spoke slightly toward the ceiling. "Sir, Commander Data believes he's found something," Riker never took his eyes off the immense viewscreen that dominated the entire forward wall of the bridge. To the screen's lower left, Data sat at the Ops station, his fingers flying over the board.  
  
"On my way, Number One." Picard was out his ready room door almost as soon as their commlink was severed. To the screen's lower right, Ensign Wesley Crusher sat at the Conn station, hands poised, awaiting the order he'd already anticipated.  
  
"Full stop, Mister Crusher," Captain Jean-Luc Picard dictated without even looking at the young ensign.  
  
"Aye, sir," Wesley tried to answer evenly. His hands jumped into action at the helm as he tried to hide his excitement. Once again, here he was on the bridge at exactly the right time. He always tries to get where the action is, and this time, his timing was perfect. Or whatever it was out there had perfect timing.  
  
"Mister Data, report," Picard requested no sooner than he had taken his seat. Picard's entrance had been one swift movement. Take the bridge, striding toward the Center Seat, order Helm without pausing, take command without stopping, order Ops without blinking. Sometimes the captain seemed like more of a perfect machine than Data.  
  
"Sir," the gold-skinned android began, "it appears that there is a ship present which is using an obsolete model of a cloaking device. Our long-range sensors could not identify it as a ship. We had to narrow the compass of the beam and intensify the output in order to--"  
  
"Thank you, Mister Data," Picard cut him off, "what kind of ship it is? To whom does it belong?"  
  
"I am not certain, sir. They have not been responding to our hails."  
  
"Could it be they do not know we are here? Perhaps there is no one left to answer?" Picard's voice was deferentially lowered.  
  
"No, sir. They are aware of our presence," Data answered with all certainty.  
  
"You're sure?" Picard asked. "Explain," he demanded of the entire bridge crew.  
  
"Sir," Chief of Security, Lieutenant Worf, addressed the captain from the aft section of the bridge, jabbing a huge finger at the panel on the aft rail in front of him, "we were scanned. But the beam disappeared almost instantly. Either it was an extremely short scan -- or something is blocking the computer from identifying the beam. Or perhaps something stopped the scan."  
  
Riker couldn't help wondering if it had been a strain on Worf to make such a long speech. He had paused between each sentence as if planning his next one. Not that Worf lacked the intelligence to speak so, it's just that he rarely did.  
  
"Thank you, Mister Worf. Mister Data, can you confirm that?"  
  
"Yes, captain. Although I do not believe we are still being scanned. The type of beam used to scan our ship was so intense that I do not believe a ship with limited cloaking technology could disguise a beam of such intensity for any considerable length of time. I believe that we were scanned with an energy burst lasting 0.84 seconds."  
  
Picard's eyes widened. "We were completely scanned in less than one second?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Data replied, attempting to rise to Picard's level of surprise, "It would appear so."  
  
Suddenly, Wesley leapt to life, checking all his readings, glancing at the viewscreen as if to confirm his readings, tabbing wildly at his console. Picard studied the boy for a fraction of a second, expecting Wesley to volunteer an explanation for his sudden actions. But Wesley was not yet sure what was happening. Picard prompted him.  
  
"Report, ensign."  
  
"Captain, we're moving forward! One-sixteenth impulse! I had all engines full stop... I still have all engines full stop! But now it's like we're in some kind of tractor beam -- in fact, that's exactly what it's like -- only I'm not reading any beam."  
  
"Confirmed," Data volunteered, checking his own console for speed and trajectory, as well as any sign of a tractor beam.  
  
"It is some kind of energy field," Worf put in. "Similar to gravitational." As soon as Worf had heard Wes's report, he had begun running diagnostics on the shields. He had found a field surrounding the Enterprise. A very cleverly hidden one.  
  
Picard prompted the Klingon to elaborate. "Mister Worf?"  
  
Worf did not look at Picard, but remained busy with his own panel. "The tractor beam latched on so subtly that we could neither feel it nor even detect it. If no one had been at the Conn, we would not have noticed our captivity."  
  
Wes began to smile a self-congratulatory smile, then blushed. Helm is the only station on the bridge that must always be occupied, and any bonehead sitting in his chair would have seen that they were moving instead of sitting still.  
  
Riker turned around to face Worf. "We're in the tractor beam of a cloaked ship? They can use a tractor beam through a cloaking device?"  
  
"Apparently so, Number One," Picard said, the surprise in his own voice assuring Riker that his comment was not sarcastic.  
  
"Sir, the ship is uncloaking," Data reported, glancing up at the screen.  
  
"I still can't believe they have a cloaking device," Riker muttered, distinct jealousy in his voice. The Federation had no such devices. Yet.  
  
There, on the huge viewscreen, appeared a ship that occupied most of the entire screen by itself. It was bigger than any two of the Federation's starships put together and had technology that the Federation hadn't even dreamed of yet. Picard tapped his insignia.  
  
"Picard to Counselor Troi. Report to the bridge immediately."  
  
Troi's voice answered, "On my way, captain."  
  
"Sir, they are hailing us," Worf reported.  
  
"On screen," Picard ordered, and the picture of the huge, imposing ship was replaced with the face of a young woman - a very young woman - sitting in the Center Seat of the bridge of a ship.  
  
"Enterprise, you will surrender your ship to us, or we will be forced to destroy you." 


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five  
  
The bridge of the Enterprise dropped into silence. There, demanding the surrender of the flagship of the United Federation of Planets, was a girl who could be no more than seventeen years of age. Picard blinked.  
  
Next to her sat a boy, obviously younger, perhaps fifteen, with tousled brown hair and icy blue eyes narrowed in the resentful expression adolescents often used when dealing with adults.  
  
These were children! Demanding the surrender of the Enterprise to them? Insanity! Yet they obviously had the capability to do exactly as they promised: destroy them. Picard decided to treat them as adult creatures who had made this threat, simply for the sake of diplomacy, because if Picard, infamous for his poor relations with youngsters, had thought of them as insolent children, he might just explode and seal the fate of the Enterprise, its passengers and crew.  
  
"Identify yourself," Picard demanded, just short of roaring, and with no less or more severity than he would use with an adults.  
  
"Fair enough. I am Captain Kaelha of the starcruiser Neverland," the girl replied. "This is my First Officer, Commander Briyen." Kaelha was quite obviously impatient. Nonetheless, regulations had to be observed. "Now. Identify yourselves."  
  
"I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation starship, the U.S.S. Enterprise."  
  
"Impressive," the girl grinned sarcastically. "Who's he?" she nodded her head in the general direction of Will Riker, who was standing next to Picard. If one were looking for this particular characteristic, one would notice that Riker stood more than a head taller than his diminutive captain, but somehow, Picard was by no means dwarfed by his tall First Officer.  
  
"Commander William T. Riker," Picard answered evenly, but with less patience, "my First Officer." There. Now they were even. Now they could get down to business.  
  
"What a coincidence!" the girl was still being obnoxiously facetious. "It appears we use the same system of rank and command. Who are all these other people?" she asked when Deanna Troi rushed from the turbolift onto the bridge.  
  
"They are my crew. Captain Kaelha, we came here in response to a distress signal, originating from your exact coordinates. It is my intent to discover the reason f--"  
  
"Identify every member of your crew present on the bridge, or we will open fire on you and take your ship full of ignorant, aging Humans by force."  
  
"Shields," Picard said, still staring at the girl, with no physical indications that he was talking to the Klingon behind him.  
  
"On full," Worf answered, then continued in lower tones, "Sir, their weapons system is consistent with our findings of the other systems of their ship." Meaning: Captain, they could easily blow us to smithereens, like they said, with or without our shields.  
  
"Noted," Picard hissed through clenched teeth. "Very well," he played up to the girl in the most patronizing manner he could muster, which was pretty damn patronizing, especially to a child. "Behind me is my Chief of Security, Lieutenant Worf." Picard sounded like he was reading "Clifford The Big Red Dog" and showing the pictures.  
  
"A Klingon!" the girl seemed pleased. "I'm very impressed with your ability to forgive your old enemies, Jean-Luc!"  
  
"You may call me captain," Picard bit off each word angrily. He had never been treated with such obvious disrespect.  
  
Commander Briyen snorted in laughter and muttered to Kaelha, "Not for long, Captain Hook!" Kaelha smothered her laughter with her hands.  
  
"This is ridiculous," Riker clenched his fists.  
  
"Captain Kaelha!" Picard shouted, feeling like a school teacher attempting to regain the attention of a misbehaving student. "Would you care to return to our discussion?"  
  
"What-ever," she sneered at him.  
  
Picard's eyebrows shot up.  
  
"Sorry," Kaelha giggled. "Continue," she waved him on, expecting the identity of the rest of his bridge crew to be forthcoming.  
  
That's it. She had tested Picard's patience, and he'd just run out of it. "Captain Kaelha, I do not see how this will further negotiations. I have grown tired of your childishness and weary of this charade," and it came out sha-RAHD. "You have made quite a claim and I will not allow it."  
  
Suddenly the entire ship was rocked with a phaser blast like none that had ever hit them before. Worf clamped huge fists around the aft railing to keep from falling. Riker grabbed the back of Wesley's chair, legs spread wide. Wesley's chair almost came loose in his grasp, rotating counter-clockwise, wrenching Wes away from his death grip on the console and sending the lanky ensign sprawling onto the floor between Conn and Ops. Picard was flung backward, landing unceremoniously in the Center Seat, and Deanna Troi was thrown to the floor. Data clung effortlessly to his Ops station console.  
  
One thing was certain: another shot like that would leave nothing of the ship but particles scattered in the vacuum of space.  
  
When the ship had steadied, Picard sprang back up into a ramrod position. Deanna and Wesley slowly picked themselves up and crept into their chairs. Riker spun Wesley's chair back around into the forward position from which he had pulled it for support, with no forthcoming apology for dumping the ensign onto the floor. Wesley gave Riker a sharp glance that went unnoticed. The commander had more pressing matters at hand.  
  
"Report!" Picard bellowed.  
  
"Shields down to 12 percent!" Worf was stunned. Then he swallowed, "Hull integrity 100 percent." Thank God.  
  
"It is not for you to decide what will further negotiations or even if we will negotiate with you at all!" the girl raged, her cheeks flushing. "You will identify every single member of your bridge crew, present or not, or we will destroy you!"  
  
Riker had an idea. "Q?" he intoned to Picard.  
  
"What?" the girl screeched. Picard looked at Riker, who shrugged.  
  
"Just a thought," Riker turned back to the viewscreen with a severe, silent self-reproach. Picard had probably already ruled out the possibility that it might be Q. Q would never demand the Enterprise. An omnipotent being such as Q wouldn't have any need for such a slow and clumsy mode of transportation, unless he thought it might irk Picard. He liked toying with the Humans' psyches, not their technology.  
  
"All right," Picard was at his most resonant. "The woman you just knocked over is Ship's Counselor Deanna Troi," he gestured to her as she sat in her chair, rubbing her shoulder where she had hit the ground.  
  
"Who's operating the ship?" the girl demanded.  
  
"Lieutenant Commander Data, Operations Manager--"  
  
"A robot," she interrupted. "Interesting."  
  
Picard paused, daunted, then continued, "--and Ensign Wesley Crusher, Flight Controller."  
  
"Did you say W--" Kaelha caught herself. "A child?" she asked instead. Captain Kaelha rose from her seat for the first time during the altercation. "You have a child driving the Enterprise? Oh, that's rich, considering how completely inept Human children are."  
  
A faint, muffled snicker emanated from the aft section of the bridge where Billy Nolan stood at Aft Engineering, covering his mouth with his hand.  
  
Wesley lifted his head carefully. He had been digging his fingers into the neck muscles tightened by his fall, but he had to see just how old was the girl who had called him a child - certainly younger than he was. To his complete surprise, Picard leapt to Wes's defense.  
  
"Ensign Crusher is neither a child nor inept. He is one of our most valued and brilliant crew members, and is therefore quite capable of driving whatever he wishes," Picard spat. Then he instantly regretted divulging Wesley's worth to an obviously hostile party. He had been so aggravated by the jibes and scoffs hurled at each and every member of his crew that he had finally exploded. When was a captain old enough, wise enough and experienced enough that he made no such mistakes? Picard had thought he had reached that age.  
  
"A child!" Kaelha was still laughing.  
  
"You apparently have a child younger than our Helmsman as First Officer of your own ship, Captain Kaelha. I don't see why you find this so unbelievable," Riker narrowed his eyes. If Wesley were not busy fearing for his life and the lives of everyone aboard the Enterprise, he would have been flattered to hear all the defense he was getting from the two highest ranking officers on the flagship of the Federation.  
  
"Stand up," Kaelha jutted her chin at Wesley.  
  
Wesley's jaw dropped.  
  
"I beg your pardon?" Picard couldn't believe his ears.  
  
"I said make him stand up, Jean-Luc."  
  
"What in the world for?" Picard ignored the disrespectful nomenclature, too involved in her bizarre request.  
  
"So I can see what he looks like! Is that benign enough, Captain?"  
  
"This is not a fashion show!" Riker spat.  
  
Wesley was gripping the seat of the Conn chair, as if afraid he would be taken from it by force.  
  
Kaelha directed her next angry phrase at Wesley, "Do it or I will fire again and you and young Mr. Crusher will personally be responsible for the death of the Enterprise!"  
  
Wesley ventured a fraction of a second to glance at Picard. Picard nodded almost imperceptibly at him and he vaulted out of his seat, standing at a rigid attention, wide, frightened eyes on the viewscreen.  
  
"How old are you?" she asked him.  
  
Wesley looked at Picard and again received almost imperceptible permission. He turned back to the screen and hesitated a little. "I... I'm uh... I-I'm eighteen, sir. Ma'am."  
  
"And as intelligent as they all claim, I see," her voice was dripping with sarcasm. Wesley opened his mouth to argue, then snapped it shut. "Sit down before you hurt yourself."  
  
Something inside Wes snapped. "You did that just fine on your own," he snarled, rubbing the back of his neck, giving in to the bickering like teenagers before he'd realized what he was doing.  
  
Picard clenched his jaw so tightly he could hear ringing in his ears. Wesley went cold. All the color drained from his face as he awaited a photon torpedo that would kill 1013 people who used to live on the Enterprise. He did not expect the reaction he got.  
  
Kaelha raised her eyebrows in mild horror. "I hurt you? Physically hurt you? That wasn't my intent. How are you hurt?"  
  
Wesley was so shocked by her reaction that he couldn't answer. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. No one else on the bridge seemed to be able to find words for her, either.  
  
"When I fired on your ship? What happened, did you fall?"  
  
"Uh... y-yeah. Yeah, I did..."  
  
"I apologize for injuring Wesley Crusher, Captain Picard."  
  
Incredible! It was like an entirely different person! In the back of his mind, Wes thought, Maybe I could pratfall down a Jefferies tube and solve this whole altercation here and now.  
  
"In order to make up for this transgression, I will agree to negotiate. But I will negotiate with Wesley and only with Wesley. Are we agreed?"  
  
"You want to negotiate with a non-commissioned ensign who's never even been trained to be a delegate?" Riker was about to try to pinch himself awake from a really weird dream.  
  
"Yes. We meet at your discretion, but aboard my ship. Kaelha out." And she was gone. The seemingly innocent face was replaced with the image of the threatening starcruiser.  
  
The entire crew required a few seconds to allow the bizarre occurrences of the past five minutes to sink in.  
  
Wesley's mind spun. He sank slowly into his Conn chair. Negotiate with him? Why? Why on earth would anyone select an underage ensign with no Starfleet Academy education and not even any delegation training or experience as their ideal negotiator? It didn't make any sense. He was beginning to feel a little overwhelmed with the situation. He'd never negotiated before! He couldn't negotiate! He didn't know how to negotiate!  
  
Yeah, okay, Crusher, calm down. Captain Picard will handle this, he thought, which felt like a cop-out. What kind of Starfleet officer would he ever make if he kept deferring all the truly difficult situations to the captain?  
  
While everyone else on the bridge was still staring at the ship on the screen in utter disbelief, Picard was already in motion. He touched his insignia.  
  
"Picard to Doctor Crusher. Report."  
  
"Falls, captain," came Wesley's mother's voice. "Bumps and scrapes, minor, no casualties, no major injuries."  
  
"Full report at your earliest convenience, Doctor."  
  
"Aye, captain." She didn't ask any questions. She would work now and ask Wesley what happened later.  
  
"Picard to Lieutenant LaForge. Report to the bridge and take the Aft Engineering Station."  
  
"Aye, sir." Geordi's voice.  
  
"Ensign Nolan, take the helm. Number One, you have the bridge. Ensign Crusher, in my ready room." He issued all those orders without looking at any of them, but just turned to walk towards his ready room. Wesley leapt up and trotted after the captain, the fear of his anticipated reprimand like ice cubes in his chest.  
  
Billy Nolan, who had been minding his own business at Aft Engineering, turned with fiercely concealed dread and strode down the aft ramp towards the Conn station. He wasn't even supposed to be on the bridge, let alone steer the ship! Steering the Enterprise make him nervous as all get-out. That's one thing Billy Nolan would gladly relinquish to Wes Crusher.  
  
* * *  
  
The proud, streamline image of the U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701D hovered on the Neverland's viewscreen amid a field of millions of stars.  
  
The young woman who had just severed the commlink with the Enterprise said, "Captain, perhaps if I hail them again we can draw their fire and--"  
  
"You'll do no such thing, lieutenant. Maintain radio silence until I tell you differently."  
  
"Aye, sir." But the officer was definitely confused at this. She had thought the whole point of calling the Enterprise to them was to start a fight, and now they were willing to negotiate? What for? What could the Enterprise give them that they really and truly needed, besides a really good fight?  
  
Kaelha stood and strode over to Briyen, the whirling, fast-paced motion of her thoughts spilling over into the actions of her body. "Get me everything you can find about Ensign Wesley Crusher. I seem to remember something about a prodigy of engineering aboard the Enterprise. If this is him, our plans have changed."  
  
Briyen nodded and dashed off the bridge.  
  
"Marn," Kaelha crossed back to a serene looking girl, "I want you researching alternate uses of warp fields. Everything is significant, understood?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Marn rose and walked to a science station.  
  
"Captain?" the navigator swiveled around in his chair. "Would you tell us what's going on?"  
  
Kaelha stared at the boy. "Time, ensign. This Wesley Crusher may be able to defeat time. If he can, we are finally free."  
  
* * *  
  
The alien had not worried much at this point in Time that the hostiles would understand the intricacies of his work. Not even the boy understood yet. No damage could be done to the fabric of the universe. At this point in Time he had been more concerned about the damage that could be done to his prospective student.  
  
* * *  
  
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Responses to Reviews/Comments:  
  
AnimeFreak13: Wow, less than one day on FanFiction.net and I already have a review! I'm glad you like the story so far, and the subject matter as well. Which original character are you speaking of, Karen Nolan? I used a friend's first name and a radio traffic DJ's last name. This is my first internet posting of a story ever, so I'm definitely not the author you've read before. ;) Thanks for the review, and I'll keep posting this story, I promise! It's already finished, I just have to upload and edit, so it should only take a few days to put up. 


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six  
  
The doors of Picard's ready room hissed shut behind Wesley. Picard slid behind his desk with typical automaton fluidity. Wesley stood awkwardly in front of the captain's desk.  
  
"Let me make this perfectly clear. Another outburst like that in front of a hostile and I will have you stripped of your rank. You're smarter than that, Mister Crusher, and I don't have the time or patience to school you on my bridge. You are in every way an officer of my bridge crew and you will conduct yourself accordingly. Understood?"  
  
Wesley blanched. "Yes, sir," he whispered, wincing as if struck.  
  
"I am lenient with you now because this is a new situation for you: being requested to negotiate, and being a catalyst, albeit unwilling, in an unanticipated situation. Besides, your reaction, strangely enough, seems to have defused the situation. Beyond that, I would be hypocrite in chastising you for losing your temper before that infuriating girl."  
  
Wesley would have smiled at that if he had not been smarting so severely from his dressing-down.  
  
"Now. I know in negotiations we must assume that these children would be diplomatic and treat you fairly, and I know that you have recently exceeded the minimum age of a diplomat, but we know nearly nothing about their ship or technology or what their plans may be. I have no intention of sending you over to their ship, much less alone, to deal with them. It is not that I doubt you in any way, or that I am holding your little outburst against you and denying you this mission as punishment. I cannot allow this at all, nor at this point would I even send Commander Riker, Data and Worf over there all three together."  
  
"I understand, sir, but..." Wesley shifted from one foot to the other, "permission to speak freely?"  
  
"Granted."  
  
Wesley's pose relaxed from a stiff attention. He took a deep breath, hesitating to make the greatest sacrifice he could imagine. He knew when he joined Starfleet that it could very possibly take his life one day. He knew, better than most, the risks of a Starfleet career. He just didn't think it would come so soon. "I know you're just watching out for me, and I know that there are times when a crew member must be sacrificed for the greater good of the ship--"  
  
"Wesley--" Picard held up his hand to stop the speech he knew was coming, but Wesley pressed on.  
  
"--but I am only an ensign, and a non-commissioned one, too. And I know that," Wesley hesitated to bring it up, "that you feel you have to watch out for me, because my father died under your command too--"  
  
"Wesley."  
  
Wes took a sharp breath, trying to get his whole thought out before Picard stopped him, "--but that wasn't your fault, I know that now. And it won't be your fault if I die. I mean, it would be much better than losing the entire Enterprise, right? And maybe they won't kill me. Maybe I can get them to leave us alone. Maybe they really do just want to negotiate with someone closer to their own age. Or even if they do take me, or if they... kill me, at least it wouldn't be a thousand passengers on a--"  
  
"Mister Crusher!" Wesley fell silent. "I admire your courage, Mister Crusher, but we don't know that sacrificing you will save the Enterprise. Perhaps they believe that with you out of the way, they can more easily destroy us. Or perhaps they wish to save you and do away with the rest of us, keeping you unharmed because you are a ch-- a young person as they are. Perhaps your negotiations won't succeed and they'll choose to battle regardless of your efforts." Wesley opened his mouth to protest, but Picard continued, "Before you go heroically and melodramatically casting yourself in the path of danger, Mister Crusher, let us be certain it is the correct path."  
  
Wes blushed and whispered, "Aye, sir."  
  
Despite valiant efforts to the contrary, Picard had come to regard Wesley almost as a son. He wondered if he might have handled the situation differently if it were any other boy, and was afraid there might be some subtle differences. Perhaps Wesley was right in that he felt his old friend Jack Crusher would have wanted him to watch out for his son. Regardless, Picard was inwardly relieved that he had found so many reasons to keep Wesley safely on the Enterprise.  
  
Wes couldn't help being relieved as well, though the two showed no physical indication of their common emotion. They had enough left to worry about to almost nullify relief.  
  
The commlink twinkled, "Yar to Picard."  
  
Picard's eyes widened. Wesley nearly fell down. The voice and name both beloned to Chief of Security Natasha Yar, who had been dead for over three years.  
  
"Tasha?" Wesley whispered.  
  
"Computer," Picard was sure he'd heard wrong. "Repeat, please."  
  
But the communication was clear.  
  
After a pause, Picard decided to play along. "Yes, lieutenant."  
  
"Sir, request permission to enter your ready room."  
  
Crusher and Picard looked at each other. Picard decided to try a few things. "Computer, locate Lieutenant Natasha Yar."  
  
"Lieutenant Natasha Yar is deceased."  
  
"Picard to Riker."  
  
"Riker here."  
  
"Number One, is there anyone standing outside my ready room door?"  
  
"No, sir," Riker's voice now came through the commlink. "May I ask why, sir?"  
  
"I'll explain later, Number One." Picard tried playing along again. "Permission granted, Lieutenant Yar."  
  
The ready room doors hissed open and Lieutenant Tasha Yar walked in. Now Wesley did fall over. He backed up into a chair, fell over it and landed on his tailbone in front of the captain's desk, still staring wide- eyed at the ghost of his old friend standing before him. Tasha looked down at him.  
  
"Are you quite all right?" she asked with raised eyebrows, as if inconvenienced by the young man's presence, rather than out of genuine concern for his welfare. She seemed rather un-Tasha-like.  
  
Wes picked himself up, not taking his eyes off her, "S-sure, I'm f- fine."  
  
Picard forced himself to release his clenched jaw. He breathed, trying to prepare himself to speak evenly. "Yes, lieutenant?"  
  
How in hell is he keeping so calm? Wes thought as he tried to control his own rising panic.  
  
"Sir, I have information on the children. They are prepared to leave us alone completely if you release this boy to them."  
  
"Surely you are not suggesting I hand over a crew member to a hostile, then turn tail and run," Picard knew that in life, Tasha would have fought against unbeatable odds to save a person rather than lose them in negotiations.  
  
"No, sir, it's not like that at all. They are not hostile, and they don't threaten us. They just want Crusher. Once they have him, they will leave. And we don't need to run from anyone. And... with all due respect, sir, Wesley's just the son of the ship's doctor."  
  
And one of your very best friends, Wes thought, hurt by Tasha's coldness.  
  
"He's not a crew member."  
  
Wesley had a dawning. He had been an ensign on the Enterprise for three years, and an acting ensign before that. But all of these promotions took place after Tasha Yar had died.  
  
Wesley looked to Picard for instructions, wondering if that same thought had occurred to him.  
  
Picard caught his eye, "You're dismissed, Ensign." Picard glanced at Tasha for a reaction to calling Wesley by his rank. She gave none.  
  
Wesley didn't even suffer an "aye sir" but just ran out.  
  
* * *  
  
Back on the bridge, Wesley ran right over to Riker, who had stood upon the disconcerted ensign's entrance. Billy Nolan was indifferent about Wes's return, for when nothing imperative was happening on the Aft Engineering monitors, he'd requested that Lieutenant LaForge take his place at Conn. Geordi happily complied, spreading his fingers across the console of his old position before his promotion, and Billy could breathe again.  
  
"Report, ensign," Riker realized that was an unnecessary command. Wesley was already spilling information at warp nine-point-one.  
  
"Commander, Tasha's in there! I mean, something that looks and acts and sounds like Tasha is in there talking to Captain Picard and she--"  
  
"What?" Riker narrowed his eyes at the ensign.  
  
Every crew member on the bridge forgot to be discreet about listening in and turned to look.  
  
"Tasha was in there with the captain. She still could be, I don't know. But it's a ghost or something. And she wanted to just beam me over to the Neverland and run away!"  
  
"Tasha Yar?" Riker still didn't grasp the concept. Wesley nodded. "Our Tasha Yar?" Wesley nodded again. "The one who's dead?"  
  
"Yes," Wesley sighed, getting impatient.  
  
Worf had gotten over his initial shock, which is never very severe in a Klingon. "That is not Tasha. Tasha would fight for a Starfleet officer."  
  
"That's just it!" Wesley strode over to the center seat just below the aft rail and looked up at the Klingon. "She doesn't know I'm an officer! She thinks I'm still just one of the families aboard!"  
  
Riker had regained his senses. "It can't be just any life form imitating Tasha. Anything biological can hardly sneak aboard the Enterprise. Why am I again thinking of Q?"  
  
"And she didn't seem to like me very much," Wesley's voice lowered a notch in volume.  
  
Data had turned slightly to listen to the conversation, but now he stared at the ready room door and disregarded his console for a moment. There was a distinct possibility that Tasha was in there, and he wasn't certain how to react to that. Certainly if he were capable of emotion, his emotions would be a turmoil. But as one who had a very special and intimate relationship with Tasha that included no real emotions whatsoever on his part, how should he react? There was something within him that seemed disturbing, something that might be a distant relative of sadness. Inasmuch as he could, Data had grown accustomed to Tasha, and he missed her presence in his life.  
  
Deanna observed Wesley and Data and shook her head slowly. "This has to be the cruelest form of torture. This being is warping your memories of Tasha, destroying them. It can be a very powerful weapon."  
  
"But whose weapon?" Riker stared at Deanna for a long moment. He struggled to hear his Imzadi's thoughts as he used to be able to do, but now, all he could see was that Deanna was very worried, and he didn't need telepathy to know that there was something she knew about and wasn't telling. She was feeling something, but she didn't trust her own feelings. She was worried about someone, but whom?  
  
Not me, that's for sure, he thought. I can always hear when she's worried about me. I haven't lost the touch that much.  
  
Riker followed her gaze around the bridge at all the officers. Which one?  
  
Just then, Picard's ready room doors slid open and he walked out, followed by Tasha Yar. The bridge crew froze.  
  
Worf placed a hand on his phaser as Tasha climbed the aft ramp and stood next to him.  
  
Riker, horrified, whispered to his captain, "Sir, wh--" he shook his head, "what are you doing?"  
  
"Trying to exorcise a ghost, Number One," Picard was rather pale.  
  
"Are you going to let her wander around?" Riker couldn't tear his eyes off her.  
  
The captain was similarly afflicted, "I don't think I have any choice."  
  
"Excuse me, Worf," Tasha said, indicating that he was standing at her station and should move. Deanna could feel the confusion and pain coming from Worf. Was this his friend or an enemy? Should he obey or fight? He did not move, but stood his ground, staring at her, unable to decide.  
  
"Worf," Tasha insisted, but Worf did not budge.  
  
Picard had an idea. "Lieutenant Yar, may I speak with you a moment?"  
  
Riker, completely dumbfounded, simply watched.  
  
Picard didn't know if this was some ghost or not, but he was going to try to touch it and find out. Tasha reached Picard's side and he tried to place a hand on her shoulder. His hand fell right through her. She disbursed like so much dust and disappeared.  
  
Picard stared for a long moment at where Tasha had been. Deanna felt the same emotion coming from all the crew members present, including herself, but she couldn't think of something to say to all of them at this moment.  
  
Seconds later, Worf tabbed his panel. "Sir, we are being hailed again."  
  
Riker shooed Wesley off to the side of the bridge near the turbolift, where he could not be seen by the children of the Neverland. He seemed to cause too much of a stir among the children to make another appearance. They might try to carry him off and declare him their king.  
  
"On screen," Picard could turn himself on and off like a switch. He faced the viewscreen.  
  
Kaelha appeared again on the screen with Briyen still at her side, and a new girl on her other side. Picard suppressed the urge to demand she identify everyone on her crew.  
  
"Jean-Luc," Kaelha began. Picard flinched. "I want your decision on when negotiations will commence. My terms are my ship, only Crusher." Before Picard could answer, she noticed Geordi. "Who is that in Crusher's place? Why does he look like that?"  
  
"That is Chief of Engineering Geordi LaForge. As for sending Ensign Crusher to you, I will not--"  
  
"What is that thing on his face?"  
  
"--allow any member of my--" Picard attempted to ignore her question and continue, but to no avail.  
  
"I said what is that?"  
  
"Sir," Geordi turned to Picard. Picard, resigned to this constant interrogation, nodded.  
  
"It's my VISOR," Geordi offered in his most pleasant voice. "It helps me see."  
  
"Now," Picard resumed, "either we will hold negotiations aboard the Enterprise, or I am willing to consider sending a team of several of our very most capable delegates aboard your ship. But I will not--"  
  
"He's blind?" Kaelha insisted, ignoring all else.  
  
"Yes," Picard sighed. "Now shall we continue?"  
  
"Who else have you not told me about? You, in the yellow," she gestured to Billy Nolan, who had been pressing himself against the back wall near Aft Engineering. "Who are you?"  
  
"I-I'm Ensign William Nolan," he answered, having a whole litter of mewing little kittens.  
  
"And how old are you?"  
  
Billy gulped hard, then lied by four years, "Twenty-four." If this chick had a thing for children, he wanted to make sure he was way out of range.  
  
"Oh. And who is your commanding officer?"  
  
"G-Geordi LaForge, there at Conn."  
  
"Mm. We've met. That covers Command, Security and Engineering. How about Medical? Ensign, who's in charge of your sickbay?"  
  
"Doctor Beverly Crusshhh..." Billy trailed off He saw the murderous look and the negating hand gestures he was getting from Wesley. Picard had a similarly dismayed look upon his face that Billy, mercifully, could not see from his perspective.  
  
"Crusher?" the girl lit up.  
  
Oh great... Wes thought, backing up into the closed doors of the turbolift.  
  
Picard felt like screaming, but his outward appearance made no change.  
  
"Any relation to the boy?" Kaelha asked. Worf ventured a glance over at Wesley, who shook his head vigorously again. He didn't want his mother dragged into this with him.  
  
Picard cursed himself for ever allowing Wesley Crusher to become an ensign before Starfleet Academy. He could just see the communiqués now: Captain of Federation Flagship's Incompetence Kills Entire Crusher Family. Was it just his imagination or did the Crushers have a proficiency for getting themselves into serious danger?  
  
Picard opened his mouth to lie: No. No relation to the boy whatever, but thank you for playing...  
  
He never got the chance to lie. The new girl sitting next to Kaelha whispered something to her.  
  
"Ah, yes," Kaelha said. "The boy is her son."  
  
Picard almost spat with anger, "Who is that girl?"  
  
"Fair enough," she answered. She said that an awful lot for someone who didn't seem to grasp the concept of fairness at all. "This is Marn, our telepath. She is not Betazoid, like your Deanna Troi is partly, but she's better in a way, because her talents are learned, not inherited. No chance of being a mere half-breed, you know?"  
  
Riker heard a tiny gasp come from Deanna's direction. When he turned to look at the half-Betazoid, he saw that she was blanched in reaction to the insult.  
  
Picard was furious, "How is it that you know so much about my crew?"  
  
"One must know one's enemy, Jean-Luc. And if it has anything to do with the outcome of a battle, I'd say we're far ahead. Kaelha out."  
  
Picard spun on his heel, took one step towards the Center Seat and stopped, his body rigid with rage. Then, with an exhalation, most of it was under control. He turned back to the viewscreen again.  
  
"Merde," he breathed at the huge ship on the screen. 


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven  
  
Doctor Beverly Crusher sat in her office in sickbay, searching the main database of millions of files for documentation of an obscure ailment she had just read of a crew member suffering from on another starship. Beverly prided herself on being "up" on all developments of the medical world. The crew member had died of it, and no one knew what it was. Name search had yielded nothing, but perhaps it was categorized under a name of which she wasn't aware. Symptom search proved to be far too broad. She sighed and rested her chin in her hands.  
  
"I need a secretary," she said aloud to absolutely nobody.  
  
Wesley strode into her office wearing the huge grin that seemed always to precede the phrase Guess what?  
  
"Guess what?"  
  
Beverly smiled. Did she have her son pegged or what?  
  
"Mom, you'll never believe what's going on up on the bridge."  
  
"Probably not," she quirked her lips, "but I'll find out soon enough. The captain's called a meeting in the conference room at 2100 hours."  
  
"I know."  
  
"You know? Are you supposed to be there?"  
  
"Yeah. I'm a pretty big part of this."  
  
Then why hasn't our noble captain spoken to me yet?, she wondered. "Wesley," she was suddenly stern, "are you in trouble?"  
  
"No, Mom," Wes was wounded, "I was just in the right place at the right time."  
  
"Careful, Wes. Interesting doesn't always mean safe." Then her whole face changed to interest in the bridge developments. "So what's going on? We were fired on before, that much I know. I got so many reports of falls that I actually sent out med teams to roam the corridors!"  
  
"Yeah, I may have you check out my neck and shoulders later. I was kinda dumped out of my seat."  
  
"Kinda."  
  
"Yeah, kinda."  
  
Beverly was already digging her fingertips into the back of her son's neck. "And the red alert?"  
  
"Yeah, there's this ship full of children. There are no adults on board, not even the cap-- ow!"  
  
Beverly yanked her hands away. "Sorry. There's a knot there. That where you hit the floor?"  
  
"No, the other side. Anyway, the captain's even a teenage girl. The ship's called the Neverland."  
  
"How apropos."  
  
"Really. They were demanding that we surrender our ship to them."  
  
"This is sounding less and less believable."  
  
"Well, I don't tell it right. But when we wouldn't give them the ship, they -- ouch!" Wes sucked air between his teeth. "That's where I hit the floor -- they opened fire."  
  
"More like hit us with everything they've got."  
  
"Not even. They fired once, and we have reason to believe it wasn't even full power."  
  
"That... was one shot?"  
  
Wes nodded, head drooping slightly from the slowly relaxing muscles in his shoulders. "This is helping so much. Thanks."  
  
"Want me to go get the--"  
  
"No."  
  
"You're worse than the captain."  
  
"Not hardly. But these children know just about everything about everyone on this ship, God knows how. They're willing to negotiate, but only with me and only on their ship."  
  
Beverly grabbed Wes's hair and tugged his head up firmly but gently. "WHAT?"  
  
"Hey, easy! I'm not going."  
  
"You'd better believe you're not."  
  
"Mom, I'm a Starfleet officer and I go where the captain tells me to go. Currently he's telling me to go nowhere."  
  
"Smart man."  
  
"And it better not have been because he was afraid of you."  
  
Beverly rounded her desk and sat down to face Wesley, suddenly very concerned. "Wesley, are you telling me that there is a ship ready, willing and able to destroy us lurking out there and they want you?"  
  
Wes blinked. He'd never thought about it that way. "Well, yeah, I guess. But you make it sound so bad..."  
  
"Wesley Richard Crusher!" Never, never, never cross a mother protecting her young.  
  
Wes shook his head, staring at the floor. "It just didn't sound so scary until just now." Concern and fear had returned that had been banished by the excitement of the moment. Now, distanced and waiting, they came back with a vengeance. And on top of it all... "There was a ghost, too."  
  
"A what?"  
  
"A ghost, it was Tasha."  
  
Beverly was silent for a moment. She waited for Wes to elaborate.  
  
"Well, I suppose it was a ghost. We were in Captain Picard's ready room and Tasha came in. She suggested we do what the children wanted. But when the captain touched her she disappeared."  
  
Beverly stared for a long time at her son, eyebrows drawn up in intense concern. Wesley could feel that gaze, and purposely avoided looking up to meet it. He was worried and frightened enough without knowing the full measure of worry it was causing his mother.  
  
"You're right," Beverly whispered, "I don't believe this..."  
  
* * *  
  
"Not good news, Captain Kaelha," Briyen touched the PADD and the screen scrolled. "It's nothing inherent in this Human. He was visited by an alien from Tau Alpha C who can travel through time, but would never alter or change it."  
  
"How about Crusher? Can he alter the past?"  
  
"Anyone can alter the past. It's a matter of getting into the past to alter it."  
  
"All right then, can he get into the past?" Kaelha sighed and stopped pacing around behind Briyen. She leaned over his shoulder to stare at the screen, letting her long brown hair fall down over her shoulders. Briyen was slightly distracted by the scent of lilacs the movement of her hair had brought to the air.  
  
"We don't even know if he has any ability at all. He's never done it alone, that's for sure. He could very well need this alien to do it all for him."  
  
"What do you mean, no ability? Look right here," Kaelha reached over Briyen's shoulder and pointed to the screen. "He was a source of strength for this alien when he was too weak to work. And here! He actually pulled himself out of his own time!"  
  
"He didn't pull himself out, he pulled a dimension, a warp bubble, to him. It's entirely different. And, he created that warp bubble in the first place."  
  
"Maybe we can have him pull 49 years ago to us."  
  
Briyen shook his head. "It's not a self-contained area, and certainly too big."  
  
"Can he just create a sort of a bridge for us?"  
  
"He'd need something on the other side to attach it to. Forty-nine years ago, his parents weren't even born yet. There's nothing there for him to pull on. And none of them have ever even heard of the place."  
  
Kaelha sighed in frustration and dropped her head down on Briyen's shoulder. Briyen ran his fingers into her hair comfortingly, but kept his eyes on his screen. "Don't give up yet, Kaelha."  
  
"What else can I do? No one will help us."  
  
"Did it occur to you to ask them for help, rather than tricking them into it?"  
  
"No. No, we can't do that. Because if they attempt to help us travel back through time and it doesn't work, they won't fall for our original plan, which is now serving as our backup plan. They cannot know what's going on."  
  
"Then you're saying we should continue with our original plan?" a quaver of fear was clearly present in Briyen's voice.  
  
Kaelha draped her arms around his neck, staring into the screen Briyen's eyes had just left. "Not yet."  
  
* * *  
  
Picard's large, sweeping strides carried him from the silent refuge of his ready room to his captain's chair in the center of the bridge. He sat next to Deanna Troi and consulted with her.  
  
"Counselor," he said in slightly private tones, even though he knew everyone on the bridge could hear. And if they couldn't, they were certainly trying. "What are you receiving from these children?"  
  
"It's very strange, captain," she began without looking at him, but looking at the large ship on the viewscreen, "but I'm not receiving any emotions that are typical of normal Human children. They have little fear or anxiety over taking our ship from us. I have considered the possibility that this may be because they are confident they will succeed, but I sense no confidence in them, little thrill or excitement of success, either. Most of the fear is coming from the First Officer, Briyen. It seems that he's different from the rest of them. He is the only one acting like a typical Human adolescent."  
  
"Perhaps, Counselor, they are not Human."  
  
"I've found that it makes little difference in their behavioral patterns, captain. It isn't that they're not acting their race, it's that they're not acting their age. They're far too mature."  
  
"Did you receive anything from the apparition of Tasha?"  
  
"There was nothing in the apparition that was not inherent in Tasha herself, but there were major elements missing from the apparition that were in Tasha when she was alive."  
  
"Mm? Explain."  
  
"It's difficult to explain, captain. What I sense when a person walks into a room is almost like seeing a painting. And it's always fairly the same painting, even behind a large disturbance or emotion that's dominating his or her mind at the moment. When Tasha walked into the room, it was as if I were looking at a pencil sketch of a master work yet to be created. There were things missing from the apparition."  
  
"Interesting."  
  
"Even though you say she suggested sacrificing Wesley, I sensed no hatred for him, nor any anger, nor any feeling for Wesley that she did not have in life. Nor, though, did I sense any of the feelings she did have for Wesley in life. The only relationship I could sense any thoughts of at all were of Data. Perhaps because that was a stronger or more prominent one in Tasha's life."  
  
"Sir," the Klingon Security Chief called from the aft section of the bridge, "the scan of the Neverland is complete."  
  
"What did we learn, Mister Worf?" Picard used his full voice for the first time since entering the bridge.  
  
Worf spoke in short sentences, as he always did when he had a lot to say, pausing for a few seconds between each. "We have been released from their tractor beam. But their technology is more advanced than we suspected. Our scan could not penetrate most of the ship. Most of the beam was... reflected, sir."  
  
"So we did not learn much from the scan?"  
  
"We learned that there are 274 life forms aboard the ship, all juvenile, Humanoid."  
  
"That tells us painfully little," Picard was inwardly frustrated. "Mister Worf, is there any other way you can get more information from them?"  
  
"I could attempt a more intense scan," Worf enunciated each word, "but they are aware that they are being scanned."  
  
"Which means they're sitting on their toy bridge laughing at us," Riker scowled.  
  
"I believe that is a chance we shall have to take, Mister Worf, and I believe that is a disrespect we shall have to suffer, Number One." 


	9. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight  
  
With more than three hours until the meeting and nothing to do but wait around for the Neverland to threaten them again, Riker was restless. He had been off duty for an hour and wished that Picard could bump up the meeting a few hours, but not every crew member was off duty yet. The one holding them all up the most was Beverly. She wouldn't be off duty until 2030, and she needed a minute to at least eat something and breathe before they delved into a meeting, largely regarding her son, that could last for hours. Actually, Deanna had a few appointments up until 2000, Picard would be on the bridge right up until 2100 on the dot, Wesley and Geordi would be working on something in Engineering later that would take almost two hours.  
  
Why am I the only idiot pacing around with nothing to do?  
  
Worf. Worf wasn't doing anything, was he? And maybe Geordi would like to spend his spare hour at the table before folding out to head down to Main Engineering. And Riker was almost certain Data had some free time now. He needed to do something that would require his complete and total concentration. Poker definitely did.  
  
Within fifteen minutes, Data, Worf, LaForge, Troi and Riker sat around the green felt card table. Data wore his silly green visor, as always.  
  
"I don't have an appointment for almost two hours. My 1700 canceled and I was getting a little bored," Deanna smiled.  
  
"I'm not supposed to meet Wes in Engineering for another hour," Geordi glanced in the direction of the door, "but he can always start without me for a few minutes. It's just some systems diagnostics Wes has got some new idea about."  
  
"Commander," Data gazed up at Riker with large, innocent eyes, "perhaps we should invite Wesley to play."  
  
"No way," Riker swung a long leg over a chair and sat at the table. "He'd probably memorize all the cards."  
  
"You realize, sir," Data continued, "that Wesley is no more capable of memorizing the cards than I am."  
  
"Capable of, no, but inclined!" Riker shook a finger as if he'd got the android on that one. He smirked. "Besides, poker's a man's game."  
  
"I can't believe you just said that, Will," Deanna's lips were a thin, pale line.  
  
"All right, poker's an adult's game," Riker amended, bowing his head in concession to Deanna.  
  
"According to Human standard," Data began a tirade, "a Human reaches the 'adult' stage when he completes eighteen years of life. Wesley has recently exceeded that age, therefore he--"  
  
"All right!" Riker held up both his hands in surrender. "But does Wes know how to play?"  
  
Geordi grinned but said nothing.  
  
* * *  
  
Wes was walking slowly. His and his mother's quarters were not far from sickbay, but he felt like walking. He didn't have anything to do but meet Geordi in an hour, and if he reached his quarters quickly, he would have nothing to do but sit and wait. At least walking was occupying him a little.  
  
Wait. It was 1745, and he had three hours and fifteen minutes until the meeting at 2100, one hour and fifteen minutes before he had to be in Engineering. Where would Robin be right now?  
  
He knew her class schedule by heart, and she didn't have a class at 1700 or 1800, so she was free. Would she be in a holodeck? Ten-Forward? Well, he certainly wasn't going back to Ten-Fore, just in case someone who knew Karen Nolan saw him not busy with plenty of techno-stuff to do. He knew where Robin's quarters were, they studied there sometimes. Maybe he would try her there first.  
  
And what would he say? That he was just wandering by and wondered who she liked better, him or Billy Nolan?  
  
No. He had a plan. He headed off at a faster pace towards Robin Wallace's quarters.  
  
"Who is it?" a beautiful voice called from behind closed doors.  
  
"It's Wes," he answered, feeling a cold sensation creeping through him as his nerves started in.  
  
"Come on in, Wes."  
  
The doors whooshed open and Wes walked in. She lived alone, her parents were planetside. Starfleet was her ambition and hers alone. No one else in her family was in Starfleet. She had told Wes that she sometimes missed her family, but her career was so exciting that it made up for being so far from everyone she loved.  
  
Now she was sitting at her desk, very happy to be distracted from her paper, which was due in a week.  
  
"I'm sorry," Wes stopped walking, not wanting to interrupt her work.  
  
"No, please!" Robin smiled, standing and walking away from her computer. "I can't stand writing papers."  
  
"Oh." Wes didn't know where to go from here. He forgot what he came here to do. Well, he forgot what he was going to say he came here to do. He really came here to see Robin, and maybe give her another chance to kiss him without being interrupted.  
  
"What's up?" she asked, sinking to a relaxed position against a bureau near Wesley.  
  
How can she be so casual when I'm shaking like a leaf?  
  
"I wanted to apologize for this afternoon," Wes said without realizing he'd remembered his excuse for coming. "Billy Nolan does that sort of thing to me all the time. I'm used to it. I'm just sorry you were guilty by association."  
  
"He's a jerk," she scowled. "But you don't have to apologize, Wes. He's not your responsibility."  
  
"Yeah, but I felt bad about what happened."  
  
"It's all right. It really didn't bother me."  
  
She looked at him. He started to panic. What should he say now? Um... um...  
  
"You working on your end-of-term paper?" he jutted his chin towards her computer.  
  
"Yeah," she turned to look at it, sighing wearily, "but I need a break."  
  
"I could help you if you want," Wes volunteered. Hey, yeah. That'll keep me here with her for a while.  
  
"No, you do that too much. If you're not careful, I'll start to think of you as a teacher," she smiled.  
  
Whoa, can't have that.  
  
"Oh," Wes was a little dejected. She was about to wrap up this visit, he could feel it coming.  
  
"But I could use some pleasant company for a few minutes," she looked at him expectantly.  
  
Wes suppressed a little yip of joy and settled for smiling at her.  
  
"Want something to drink?" she gestured toward her table.  
  
"Um, just water," he pulled out a chair and started to sit. Then he glanced over at her. Her back was to him, she was standing at the replicator. He swiveled the chair around and straddled it, feeling a bit like a poor imitation of Will Riker. He turned the chair back and tried to find a casual, relaxed pose, with some success.  
  
She turned back, placed a glass in front of him and sat with hers in the chair next to him. Wes folded his arms on the table.  
  
"So what's your thesis?" he tried to make conversation, then realized he had inadvertently gone back to the subject she was trying to forget about for the moment. He cringed inwardly.  
  
"Environmental effects of warp drive above factor five."  
  
"Oh," he gave a sour look. Reducing warp drive was a controversial issue of the time, and a sore subject to everyone. Much like Ozone depletion was way back in the late 20th century.  
  
Wesley broached a new and better subject. "How was defense class today?"  
  
"Great!" Robin brightened considerably. "I flipped Worf onto his back!"  
  
Wes's eyes widened, "I'll be sure to stay on your good side!"  
  
"No," Robin laughed. "It's this technique he was teaching us that you can use to flip someone twice your size without having to actually lift them. Watch." She stood up and walked over to him.  
  
"Okay, imagine you're Worf."  
  
"I don't think my imagination's that good."  
  
Robin laughed. "Come on!"  
  
He stood.  
  
"If someone is coming at you like this," she laid a hand on his shoulder, "you could grab their arm, turn and pull them over your shoulder. It's using their own momentum." She had described the move without demonstrating.  
  
Wesley looked a little confused.  
  
"Here, I'll show you," she smiled, "but without actually laying you out."  
  
"I'd appreciate that."  
  
"Give me your hand." Wes complied, allowing her to place his hands on her shoulders. "That's the grip you're going for. If you were actually coming toward me, reaching for my shoulders, arms or neck, I'd do this--"  
  
Robin gripped both his wrists and turned to her right, holding his wrists like a pack over her shoulder, then pulled. She stopped pulling when she felt him stagger forward. Wes was surprised.  
  
"See?" she turned around again to face Wes, who was practically pressed up against her after the pull. "You're not actually..." she seemed a bit flustered by his sudden proximity.  
  
Wesley decided not to speak. He didn't trust himself not to ruin the moment. He was a head taller than Robin and when she'd turned back to him, she was not looking into his eyes. She had turned around to look him right in the chest. This was not "The Boy" she had heard so much about. The legendary Wesley Crusher grew up before she'd even met him. He was not at all what she'd expected of him, and she had just now realized it.  
  
"...actually lifting them..." she tried to continue, but could not. Billy had called Wes 'scrawny,' and while he might have been when he was thirteen, that was no longer the case. His entire physique was what she would term streamline. She slowly lifted her eyes to his face. His head was tilted down slightly, his deep brown eyes holding hers, trying desperately to control his breathing. He waited for three seconds that seemed like lightyears, waited for her to do something. Before he knew what he was doing, he kissed her.  
  
She exhaled and leaned her head against his shoulder. Wes felt a chill up his back and tightened his arms around her.  
  
"Robin," he whispered, "what..." She lifted her head to look at him. He couldn't think of how to ask.  
  
She looked at him. He couldn't find the right words.  
  
Wes didn't want to get into any kind of relationship. He would be leaving for the Academy very shortly and he didn't want to make leaving any harder for himself, or for anyone else.  
  
But he'd never felt exactly like this about a girl before, which he decided was significant despite Guinan's words which had leapt immediately to mind. "You're right. You'll never feel the same about anyone else. But every time you feel love, it's different. Each time, it's different."  
  
That had been when he was fifteen years old, and miserable over the departure of a girl of a shapeshifting race to a planet she was meant to rule. THAT was him being out of his league. This? Maybe not quite so much.  
  
Wes sighed and released Robin, sinking down into his chair again.  
  
"What?" Robin whispered. She knelt down at his feet and leaned her folded arms on his knees.  
  
"I'm sorry," he looked down at her. "I didn't mean to do that."  
  
"Well, I'm sorry to hear that, because I didn't mind," she seemed an awful lot older and more confident than Wes right at that particular moment. And at just about any other particular moment he could think of.  
  
"I..." All right, now what do I say? "I don't want you to think that, I mean, I'm not sure if... if you were... if you wanted..."  
  
"Wes, I like you," Robin smiled up at him, her emerald green eyes sparkling and her auburn hair spilling around her shoulders. Wes winced a little. She was so beautiful it hurt. "I was okay with that. Do you think I would let someone kiss me if I didn't want them to?"  
  
Wes smiled a little at that. "Not a chance."  
  
"Then what's wrong?"  
  
"I-- I don't-- Nothing." How do you tell someone you met about two weeks ago that you think it'd be way too easy to fall in love with her, and you're leaving in a few months for Earth?  
  
She gazed attentively into his deep brown eyes. "I promise not to be offended?"  
  
"No, it's nothing that would offend you." Wes glanced up at the ceiling, "I don't think," he added softly. With his current batting average, he wasn't prepared to claim knowledge of what women found offensive.  
  
"What if I promise not to laugh?" she smiled.  
  
"I hope you wouldn't laugh!"  
  
"Then what?"  
  
Maybe there was a way he could euphamize this. "In a few months, I'm going to be leaving for Starfleet Academy. I'm really going to miss this place. I'm going to miss everything. My friends, Captain Picard, Geordi... and you. And I think what I just did is going to make me miss you more."  
  
"Oh!" Robin seemed pleased and flattered. "Well, then we better make sure you really miss me," she kneeled up and kissed him again. This wasn't the reaction Wes had been expecting. Wes was torn. He wanted to stay here with Robin and see what developed. He really wanted to. But he was also doomed to think ahead.  
  
His heart won over his mind and he stopped thinking about the Academy. He leaned toward her and slipped his fingers into her hair.  
  
And the commlink twinkled.  
  
"Riker to Ensign Crusher."  
  
Wes almost cursed. Instead he smacked his comm badge, harder than necessary. "Crusher here, aye, sir."  
  
"Are you busy at the moment or just occupying your time, waiting for the meeting?"  
  
"I'm..." Wes stared forlornly at Robin. She shook her head. This was the ship's First Officer. Wes should go wherever Commander Riker wanted him to go. Wes sighed. "Waiting for the meeting, sir." Robin smirked at him. Just occupying time, indeed.  
  
"Could you join me and the senior officers in my quarters?"  
  
"Yes, sir. Something like a conference before the meeting, sir?"  
  
"Something like that. See you there, ensign."  
  
"Aye, sir."  
  
Robin followed Wesley towards the door. "What meeting? About that ship that fired on us?" She hit the button to release and open her doors with the side of her fist, and they compliantly slid open.  
  
"Yeah," Wes was unable to go through the doors. He couldn't make himself step further away from Robin.  
  
"But you're just an ensign. Meetings like that are usually only for the senior officers."  
  
"It seems that I have a special part in this."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm not sure yet," it wasn't exactly a lie. He stood staring at her.  
  
After a moment, Robin prompted, "Go. They're waiting for you, Boy Wonder."  
  
Wes smiled and kissed her cheek quickly. Then he turned and walked into the corridor.  
  
"Hey," she whispered. He turned around again. "Be careful."  
  
Wes gave her a look that meant such things went without saying. "Always," he answered, smiling reassuringly, and left.  
  
* * *  
  
"Something troubles you," Marn watched Kaelha pace around her quarters. Very rarely did Kaelha come to see her, and even more rarely without being practically dragged into it.  
  
"You're a damned telepath and all you can figure out is that something troubles me?"  
  
"I could be more specific if you wish, but usually it is more helpful to the patients to put it into words themselves."  
  
"Don't call me 'patient'. I'm not a lunatic. I'm a captain with a huge decision on my hands."  
  
"I apologize, Captain. You aren't going to go through with the plan, are you?"  
  
"Not at the moment. Not while there's still hope. It's too drastic a measure to resort to while there's still hope."  
  
"But you don't really think this Crusher boy can help any more than the rest of us think he can. Then why do we continue to pursue him?"  
  
"I haven't any idea at all."  
  
"Yes you do."  
  
"I can't explain this. Why? Why do I still pursue this ship if its only purpose is to fulfill our original plan, and that's no longer an option?"  
  
"If Crusher can't help us, then your glimmer of hope... Captain, I'm afraid it's gone. We can proceed with the plan."  
  
"No. It's not gone. We don't know he can't help. We haven't even tried. If I continue to pursue Crusher, my actions will draw the Enterprise's fire, thus fulfilling our original plan. But if we return fire on the Enterprise, we will nullify the threat, but also kill Crusher, our only hope. So you see my dilemma."  
  
"Kaelha, you have good reason to feel the way you do. We all understand what you're going through."  
  
"You are my advisor. Advise me. What should I do?"  
  
"You will not like my answer."  
  
"Your advice is only advice, not an order. Give it to me anyway."  
  
"Yes, Captain. I advise you to forget that you ever heard of the Enterprise's young prodigy. Continue with our original plan. Nothing else remains for us, Captain. Nothing at all." Marn hesitated to suggest this, "I also advise that we find some way to get Briyen off the Neverland."  
  
"No. He would not leave my side. He would go through with the plan as the rest of us would. He is as much B'Safran as you or I. The plan was voted upon unanimously. That included his vote."  
  
"Then go through with the plan."  
  
"I..." Kaelha lowered her voice, "I can't just now."  
  
The young captain paced over to the tall windows and gazed out pensively at the infinite starfield. She spoke so that Marn would not hear, but she heard her captain's musings anyway. "...straight on 'til morning."  
  
* * *  
  
Riker let his hand drop heavily on Wesley's shoulder as the ensign sat at the green felt card table. "Think you've got the idea?"  
  
Wesley nodded.  
  
Geordi leaned over and whispered to Worf, "Do you think Commander Riker forgot to mention the concept of a poker face to Wes?"  
  
"I believe that was intentional, sir," Worf narrowed his eyes.  
  
"Don't worry," Geordi grinned. "Wes isn't as dumb as Commander Riker thinks he is."  
  
Worf glanced at Geordi, who obviously knew something the rest of them didn't.  
  
Wesley blew the first two rounds. A pair of fives and nothing at all. It wouldn't happen again.  
  
"Sorry, Wes," Riker smiled a charmingly crooked smile as he swept up a pile of Wes's chips. "It happens in this game."  
  
Wes nodded sadly, as if learning one of life's little lessons.  
  
The deal fell upon Wesley. He stared at the deck. Slowly, he picked it up and tried to shuffle the cards the way Riker had. He dropped quite a few of them face up on the table.  
  
"In the old West, you'd've been shot for that," Riker laughed.  
  
Wes blushed. He picked up the cards again. This time, he executed the maneuver with admirable speed and accuracy: a ripping fast shuffle and bridge. When everyone's but Geordi's eyes were wide with astonishment, Wesley began to shoot cards across the felt at the players. He never missed.  
  
"Five card stud, nothing's wild, sky's the limit," Wes set the deck down next to him, ready to deal out cards for the ones the players threw in.  
  
Riker's jaw hung open. Geordi grinned widely. Everyone anted up and bet on the cards Wes had dealt facing up. From the look of Wesley's showing card, he didn't have much. A Ten of Clubs. Deanna showed a Ten of Hearts, Riker a Six of Hearts, Geordi a Three of Diamonds. Data had a Seven of Clubs and Worf showed a Jack of Spades. Worf had the high card. Everyone peeked at their cards dealt face-down. Riker, who had watched Wes's face fall with despair for the past two hands, saw no indication whatsoever of what he held now.  
  
"Fold," Geordi said and put his cards down on the felt.  
  
"Already?" Riker raised an eyebrow at him. "No one's even bet yet."  
  
"I know. I fold."  
  
"Musta been a really lousy hand..." Riker muttered.  
  
Deanna turned three cards and Wes shot over three new ones. Worf turned one, Riker none, Data two and Wes turned one for himself. No one saw Wes's eyebrows rise slightly. He bit his tongue almost hard enough to draw blood in an effort to stop any further emotion from showing. Holy cow!!!  
  
Riker, sitting to Wesley's left, began the betting. The bets got higher and higher, and Wes did not drop out, seeing the bet every time it came to him and raising it on occasion. Wes had not folded for the past two hands, but Riker just assumed that was because he had forgotten to tell Wesley that you can fold. Now that Wes had seen Geordi do it, surely it took no more than that to teach Wes a rule. But Wes still didn't fold. Riker had that distinctly uneasy feeling.  
  
In the course of the betting, Data and Worf also folded.  
  
Finally, the pot was even and no one was going any higher. It was a very large pot, Wes had bet every chip he had.  
  
He's bluffing. He's got to be bluffing. Either that or he's the worst poker player I've ever met. Or he's got an incredible hand...  
  
Riker laid down his hand.  
  
"Full House," Riker grinned. He held the Tens of Diamonds and Hearts, and the Kings of Diamonds, Hearts and Spades.  
  
"Two pairs," Deanna looked a little dejected. She had a good hand, but a full house beat it. She had Aces of Diamonds and Spades and Nines of Diamonds and Clubs.  
  
Riker scrutinized Wesley's face. Wes was deadpan as his cards hit the felt. He didn't say a word, just looked up at Commander Riker, who was studying the young ensign's cards in abject shock.  
  
"I don't believe it! A Royal Flush!"  
  
Wes beamed from ear to ear. Geordi whooped and smacked him on the back, his own grin matching Wes's.  
  
Data scanned the cards. "That was quite lucky of you, Wesley. A Royal Flush is the highest hand possible in poker. But you do indeed have Ace, King, Queen, Jack and Ten of Clubs. And you did not cheat. Congratulations."  
  
"Thanks, Data..." Wes could barely breathe. Never in his life had he held a Royal Flush. He made a concerted effort not to scream and laugh in the hysterics of joy. "Actually, Commander," Wes turned to Riker, "you can have the pot, sir, since you had the next highest hand. Geordi and I should be getting down to Engineering, right?" Wes looked at Geordi.  
  
Geordi stood, still trying to wipe the smug grin off his face. He had known all along that Wes was no newbie at this game, but no one can deny that, seasoned player or novice, luck has almost everything to do with how you play. "Yeah, we'd better get going."  
  
Wes and Geordi heard the doors hiss closed behind them, leaving the remaining four to play out the game.  
  
"I've got to know one thing," Geordi said once out of earshot of Riker's quarters. "How in the world did you do that?"  
  
"I don't know!" Wes couldn't believe it himself. "I threw away a Pair Of Kings and Eights Three Of A Kind to keep up my little front, I was holding out for a straight. But I've never had a Royal Flush!"  
  
"Man, was that good timing!" Geordi laughed.  
  
"I know!" Wes leaned his arm on Geordi's shoulder, talking in as near to confidential tones as are possible when so near hysterics, "did you see the look on Commander Riker's face??"  
  
"Wes, if you ever go to Ferengenar, bring me!"  
  
* * *  
  
"She won't look at me anymore," Briyen was sitting in an overly soft chair in his quarters. His legs were drawn up under him and his arms were folded across them. It looked like he was trying to curl himself into a ball, like some animals do to protect themselves. "She talks to me, but she won't look at me. And she seems so distant when she does talk to me. She used to be like a best friend."  
  
"It's a hard time for her," Marn sat across from Briyen at his table. She was holding a B'Safran michaka orb, thought to enhance mental vision and wisdom. Her eyes were locked on the golf-ball-sized black opaque rock, held before her face by her every fingertip.  
  
"Oh, and it's not hard for me? I'm not even a part of all this! I'm only fifteen! I wasn't even there when all this started!"  
  
"I know. I am trying to convince Kaelha to find a way to let you go. She seems to think you wouldn't leave her."  
  
Briyen sighed and unfolded his spindly frame, stretching backwards in the chair. He stared at his ceiling. "Maybe she's right. Maybe I wouldn't. Maybe I wouldn't have before, but after the way she's been treating me recently, I don't know anymore. I mean, isn't that a lot to ask of me? Of anyone?" He stood and crossed to the tall windows, gazing out into the starfield.  
  
Marn thought about that. Perhaps Kaelha was trying to drive Briyen away from her, so it would be easier for him to leave when the time came. She did not share these thoughts with Briyen.  
  
"The second star to the right, and straight on till morning," Briyen muttered.  
  
Marn almost smiled at his musings. "Did Kaelha tell you that story? How to get to Neverland?"  
  
"Mm," Briyen didn't turn. "Only now I suppose the question would be how to get away from Neverland. Or if I even want to."  
  
"Get on Tinkerbell's good side?"  
  
Briyen laughed mirthlessly. He didn't realize that Marn was only half joking. She pressed all ten fingers tightly against the rock. She was now almost certain that, with a little help, Briyen would be able to get out of this.  
  
She looked at him. He even looked slightly different from the rest of them, as if he had not worried for nearly as long. And he hadn't. It wasn't fair to drag him into this with them. She would let Kaelha find her own way to say goodbye to the boy, even if she didn't quite agree with the captain's methods of getting rid of him.  
  
* * *  
  
Responses to Comments:  
  
April: Both a Wesley fan and a Wesley hater, depending on how he's written. I generally prefer the treatment he's given in the novel series to how he was written in the TV series. He. ripened with age. He was pretty annoying when he was younger. I thought I'd give him a whirl and see if I could un-annoying him. ;)  
  
Sarahjayne: LOL! I almost left "Wesley" out of the description because of that! But, the story does center around him and I didn't want to be misleading. Hopefully he doesn't become annoying as the story goes on! I tried to age him a bit, hopefully that helps. Thanks for the review!  
  
DB: O.O* Whoa, thank you. That was one heck of a compliment. I'll try to live up to it as the story goes on. It's already complete, and I'm just posting it (and mildly editing it) as I go, so hopefully it doesn't take a turn downhill! 


	10. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine  
  
"Geordi, I need your advice," Wes called from the catwalk far above Geordi's head, near the top of the warp core. He was light-handedly punching buttons on a panel, running a standard diagnostic he could do in his sleep.  
  
"What about?" Geordi stood below him at the dilithium crystal chamber.  
  
"Well, there's this girl in my Astrophysics class and she's--"  
  
"Here we go again," Geordi sighed.  
  
"--really good-looking," Wes continued, ignoring Geordi's commentary. He skidded to a halt at the bottom of the ladder at Geordi's side after having moved so quickly that Geordi hadn't notice he'd left the catwalk above him. Geordi looked over at the ladder from the catwalk to the floor, then back at Wes, who was leaning casually on the rail next to him.  
  
Geordi groaned. "You're getting all bouncy and springy. I think we're all in trouble."  
  
"Come on, Geordi, it's not like when I was fourteen."  
  
"No, it's worse."  
  
"I'm not in love, Geordi. I'm just... in... in like."  
  
"In like."  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
Geordi shook his head. "In lust is more like it."  
  
"Geordi!" Wes narrowed his eyes at him, mildly annoyed. But Geordi had been hoping to embarrass him with that accusation. He'd only succeeded in irritating him by not taking him seriously.  
  
He sighed. "All right, out with it. Who is she?"  
  
"Do you know a girl named Robin Wallace?"  
  
"Do I? She's a walking disaster in a science lab! But Worf loves her. He says she's the next Tasha Yar or something. Well, I don't know about that, but she seems fun, Wes. Nice choice."  
  
"Thanks. There's this one problem, though."  
  
"There always is."  
  
"I'm leaving for Starfleet Academy in less than two months."  
  
"And? What's the problem?"  
  
"How can I get into a relationship if I'm leaving in two months for Earth?"  
  
"Well, is she your future wife?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Are you planning on marrying her?"  
  
"What, now? Of course not. I barely even know her."  
  
"My point exactly. So have a two-month relationship with her and miss her when you go."  
  
"I don't want to miss her."  
  
"Then don't get involved with her."  
  
"But I really want to get invol--"  
  
"Look, Wes," Geordi interrupted. "You've got to decide if you'd rather have her and then miss her, or wonder forever what it would have been like to be her boyfriend, even for a little while."  
  
"I know. It's just a tough decision."  
  
"No one ever said life would be easy."  
  
"I know... you're right," Wes groaned.  
  
"Of course I'm right."  
  
"Also, there's Billy Nolan."  
  
"What, you mean the smooth talker up on the bridge before?"  
  
"Hey. I'll be the first to admit the guy's not exactly filled with social graces, but no one was in top form with that girl threatening us with total annihilation."  
  
Geordi remembered everyone's little outbursts. "Yeah, I guess that encounter could have gone better."  
  
"My point is my personal problem with him," Wes moved the conversation away from that episode. "He's heavy after Robin, and frankly, he's better-looking than I am."  
  
"So, who does she like, you or him?" Geordi would have argued that Wes was good-looking enough, just to be encouraging, but Geordi had no idea what Wes looked like. Through Geordi's VISOR, Wes looked like a tall, thin, Human-shaped tie-dyed T-shirt with a blue- and green-patterned outline unique to Ensign Wesley Crusher.  
  
"Me, I think."  
  
"And what makes you think that?"  
  
"Well, she asks me to help her study all the time."  
  
"Ah, she wants you for your brain," Geordi smiled.  
  
"And she met up with me in the hall before and kissed me goodbye."  
  
"Sounds like a good sign."  
  
"And there's that she outright said so."  
  
"She did? When?"  
  
"When I was visiting her in her quarters just before the poker game."  
  
"Visiting how?"  
  
"Just... Well, she... uh..."  
  
"Yeah, that's what I thought. Well, has she spent time visiting with Nolan?"  
  
"No, I don't think so." Then resolutely, "No, she hasn't."  
  
"Well then?"  
  
"I know, it's just that he really gets on my nerves! We were in the corridor before and she was this close to kissing me," Wes held up his thumb and forefinger, about an inch apart, "and he pushed me away from her. Pretty humiliating, right?"  
  
"Only for him. Sounds like that would only make her like him less."  
  
"Think so?"  
  
"Definitely. Women are notorious for rooting for the underdog and hating bullies."  
  
"I'm the underdog. Great. Thanks, Geordi."  
  
"That didn't come out right."  
  
Wes let it go. "Women are so hard to figure out. You'd think that with all the advances in technology and space travel, we'd be able to understand the opposite sex."  
  
"Not a chance. Women are more complex than an unstable wormhole. But from the sounds of things, she likes you. I say go for it. You'll have some good memories to bring with you to the Academy."  
  
"Yeah," Wes had a wistful expression on his face, one that was only slightly too sage for his current age. But the nostalgic curl to his lips quickly became a smile, "She's so wonderful, Geordi." He straddled a chair next to Geordi, looking distinctly like a younger, shaven version of Will Riker again, in a rather practiced way. "She's got beautiful long hair that's almost the color of copper. And these huge, sparkling green eyes, and she doesn't get all... giddy or embarrassed when talking to guys or to superior officers, like nothing can intimidate her, you know?"  
  
"Yeah," Geordi was dismissive. He didn't want to go into what a beautiful woman looked like. He would give anything to see the beautiful hair and sparkling eyes Wes was describing.  
  
"It's like there's a real person inside, someone as real and tangible as me, mostly because she's similar to me in some ways."  
  
"That's important," Geordi was getting bored.  
  
"And I can talk to her. She's bright and intelligent and--"  
  
"Intelligent?" Geordi's face contorted. "That girl couldn't memorize the configuration of a hand phaser!"  
  
"Yes she could. She just doesn't want to waste time memorizing stuff like that when it doesn't interest her. She's got Shakespearean sonnets memorized instead."  
  
"Introduce her to Captain Picard."  
  
"No way, they might get along too well."  
  
"Well, good luck with her, Wes."  
  
"But I never know what to say to her when I'm with her."  
  
That had been the second time Geordi tried to end the conversation and Wes pursued it. Geordi sighed.  
  
"She's always so calm and confident, and I'm always so nervous."  
  
"She's older than you, right?" Geordi asked.  
  
"Yeah, three years. Why?"  
  
"That explains it."  
  
"But what do three years do to a person that hasn't already been done to me?"  
  
"Just because you have the intellect of a hundred-year-old man and a proficiency for finding trouble doesn't mean the rest of you has caught up with your mind."  
  
"I think I've been insulted," he smirked.  
  
"Besides, I'm sure she's nervous, too. She just better at hiding it. She studies with Worf, remember?"  
  
"Yeah, so what do I say to her?"  
  
"If I tell you what to say, it'll just come out wrong."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"You have to go in there cold. You have to say whatever comes to your mind. Be honest. Not rehearsed. They can smell it if you've practiced."  
  
Wes gave him a scowl of disbelief.  
  
"You have to just be spontaneous," Geordi summed up.  
  
"I hate that."  
  
"Yeah, well I don't know anyone who likes it. Computer, what time is it?"  
  
"The time is 2047.23," the voice answered.  
  
"Better head up to the meeting," Geordi ended the conversation once and for all. Wes had an irritating way of asking questions for which there were no definitive answers. "You can put this off until later. You won't be any use to me for the next fifteen minutes with your mind on what to say to Robin."  
  
"Okay. Thanks, Geordi," Wes was still lost in his own thoughts.  
  
"Or what to do to Robin," Geordi elbowed him and grinned.  
  
Wes grimaced. "You had to get that last one in, didn't you?"  
  
"You know me," he grinned.  
  
"See you up there. I'm going to go get Mom."  
  
"See you there." Geordi remembered days when he could make Wes blush at the drop of a hat. He hadn't been able to do that in almost two years. Geordi smiled and shook his head. "The Boy" grows up, he thought, wondering what life on the Enterprise would be like without Wesley Crusher. 


	11. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten  
  
The alien drew a slow breath and held it, the kind of inhalation one makes when preparing for the pinch of a needle giving stitches, when such things were still used to heal wounds. He remembered what was about to happen. In retrospect, he concluded that of all the boy was experiencing and about to experience, this would be the hardest to sort out with his heart.  
  
* * *  
  
Beverly and Wesley were waiting outside the turbolift doors on their way to the conference room.  
  
"I'm sure it was a hologram or something," Beverly rationalized.  
  
"But no one picked up any beams or anything," Wes argued.  
  
"No one felt that tractor beam, either."  
  
"Yeah, but I picked it up at Conn. We may not have felt it, but the computer sensed it. Nothing sensed anything when that thing came aboard."  
  
The turbolift arrived at the deck Beverly and Wesley were waiting on, and the doors whooshed open.  
  
Beverly stepped aside to let her son get on first, but Wesley stopped dead in his tracks and Beverly walked right into him.  
  
"Wes!" a voice called from inside the turbolift. Wes made no move at all.  
  
Probably a friend of Wesley's, Beverly thought, we don't have time for this.  
  
"D-Dad...?" Wes whispered.  
  
Beverly froze. She peeked slowly around her tall son, and there stood her late husband, Jack Crusher, looking alive as ever. Jack Crusher had been dead for nine years. What the hell was going on? Wesley was frozen in his place, but Jack was not. He threw his arms around his son, making him stagger. Wesley could not bring himself to return the embrace, as much as he wanted to. Jack pulled him into the turbolift. Beverly snapped out of it and dove in after her son.  
  
"Wesley," she said in a very low, urgent voice. Wes extricated himself from his father's grip and gave his mother a look that seemed to say, Mom, help...  
  
Beverly felt her eyes stinging and her throat tightening. She heard the turbolift doors slide shut behind them. Jack pulled her gently to him and lowered his head to her shoulder. She was surprised to realize her arms were around him. She opened her eyes and disentangled herself from him.  
  
"No... No, this can't be..."  
  
Jack ignored her obvious confusion. "Beverly. God, I've missed you..."  
  
Beverly glanced over her shoulder to see Wes pressing himself into the far corner of the lift, as far away from his father as possible. Jack told the lift where to take them: to the deck of the conference room where the meeting was to be.  
  
The lift responded to his voice, Wes noted somewhere in the back of his mind.  
  
"Jack," Beverly brought herself to speak coherently, "what-- what are you doing here?"  
  
"I have to talk to Jean-Luc, sweetheart. I have advice for him. He needs me now."  
  
Jack turned to Wesley, "Look at you," he smiled. "You're a young man now. Last time I saw you, you were only nine years old and about this high," Jack held his open palm just below his own chest level. "And now you're taller than me!  
  
"And Beverly," Jack turned to her and gently touched her face, "Beverly, you are even more beautiful than I remembered. I can't believe I'm with you again, both of you."  
  
The lift stopped and the doors slid open, but no one made any move to disembark.  
  
"I'm coming to the meeting with you," Jack said to Wesley.  
  
That snapped Wesley out of his stupor. Jack was facing Wesley, not Beverly. Wes stared with desperate intensity at his mother until he had her attention. He flicked his eyes towards the turbolift door. Beverly understood his communication and sprang out the door.  
  
Jack turned around to see what was happening. "Beverly!"  
  
When Jack turned away from him, Wes started to run -- but he hesitated for just a fraction of a second, and that cost him his escape. He felt hands catch him by the shoulders. Hands with incredible strength. He couldn't get away.  
  
"Mom!" Wes called, beginning to become a little terrified.  
  
Beverly whirled around and froze.  
  
"Beverly," Jack was unruffled, "I just want to talk to Wes for a minute. Go on ahead, we'll catch up."  
  
"What do you want with my son?" Beverly's low voice barely escaped through her teeth.  
  
Jack's eyebrows drew up in a mildly hurt expression, "Our son, Beverly. I just want to talk to him for a minute."  
  
"Jack, let him come with me, please," Beverly tried to keep the desperation from her voice.  
  
Jack tightened his fingers around Wes's arms and Beverly heard her son draw a sharp breath. Jack's grip was so tight that Wes's fists fell open, his fingers trembling.  
  
Beverly tapped her communicator. Nothing. Then she smacked it. Still nothing. "Computer!" Nothing. She had to get help. Five paces behind her was a wall comm panel. She backed up slowly, not prying her eyes off her son and his captor. Wes was fighting down panic and Jack's face reflected complete and total innocence of what he was doing to Wes. It was eerie. She reached the comm panel and pressed it. Nothing happened. She cursed.  
  
For a long moment, Beverly Crusher considered attacking the "ghost" to get Wes free, but the doctor part of her rationalized that. An act like that would most likely get both of them killed. If she could just get the rest of the officers...  
  
...who were assembled in the room just down the corridor.  
  
Wes's thoughts were right with hers. He glanced down the corridor behind his mother and ever so slightly jutted his chin, as if to say, Go.  
  
"Wes, don't go anywhere with him," Beverly pointed at Jack. "And you," she said to Jack, "if you harm one hair on his head, you'll wish you'd never heard of me. I'll be back so quickly you won't have time to think."  
  
Jack's jaw fell open in surprise, but he made no move at all.  
  
She backed down the corridor to where it bent, the mother part of her still thinking don't leave him, don't leave him... But what could she do alone against an unknown enemy in the form of her late husband? As soon as she lost sight of her son, she turned and sprinted down the corridor faster than she thought she was capable of running.  
  
The conference room was just down the hall, through the bridge, and to the opposite side of the bridge. Help should only take a moment to arrive.  
  
"Dad," Wes's voice was somewhat strangled with emotion (and pain in his arms), "Dad, you're-- you're hurting me."  
  
Jack's grip immediately loosened and he turned Wes around to face him. Wes was about a half an inch taller than Jack, which made Wes feel useless that Jack was so much stronger than Wes.  
  
But this isn't Dad. It's not Human. It isn't Dad. It isn't Dad it isn't Dad it isn't Dad...  
  
"Oh, Wes, I'm sorry," Jack's voice was soft and pained. "I didn't mean to hurt you. Wes, my god, my little boy," Jack hugged him again, this time more carefully so as not to crush him. "There's... there was so much that I wanted to do with you. I wanted to watch you walk for the first time, play catch with you, meet... meet your girlfriends, watch you graduate from high school, be at your wedding, play with my grandchildren... and now... now I can never do any of that. Either I was off in the stars, leaving you alone, or I'd met my end, leaving you alone forever. It's just so unfair, Wes, I-- I never wanted to hurt you, you've got to believe that."  
  
Wes knew he didn't mean that he'd hurt him by holding him too tightly. He meant that he'd hurt him by making him fatherless at the age of nine. Wes had never seen much of his father. He was always out on the Stargazer while Wes and Beverly were left behind on Earth. Jack always made it home for important occasions like birthdays and holidays. Only once did he miss Wesley's birthday, and it was his tenth. And that was because he had just been killed not a whole day before. Two days after, Beverly and Wesley were visited by Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Stargazer, bearing very bad news.  
  
For a long time, Wes was angry with his father for going off into the stars and never returning. For having a family and leaving them alone. For knowing the risk, taking it, and losing. For an even longer time, Wes was angry with Captain Picard, even long into his stay on the Enterprise. Jack Crusher was Picard's first officer on the Stargazer. Picard had sent him to lead an away team mission from which Jack Crusher did not return alive. Wes could still remember that day, the day Picard came to his front door and told his mother they would never see his father again. Wes did not cry. They stood before his coffin at the funeral, staring at the unmoving face, and Wes did not cry. For the difficult months afterward, he watched his mother fall apart, then slowly pull herself back together again, but Wes did not cry. Wes had simply decided it was much easier not to think about it. It hurt too much to let the emotions run their course. However, that is why it was so difficult right now for Wes to handle seeing his father again. He had never faced his father's death in the first place.  
  
"I was always so proud of you, Wes, and I only wanted to stay in Starfleet long enough to make sure you and your mother were provided for, then I was going to come home for good, Wes, you must believe me," Jack was holding Wes by the shoulders, looking him right in the eyes, and seeing a coldness in the young man's eyes that the creature knew was not a good sign. Wesley was not buying into his routine. This was going to require laying it on thicker. Why not go for broke and lay it on so thick that the poor kid cries? Then he'd be totally convinced, and there'd be no more worries of the doctor getting in the way.  
  
* * *  
  
Beverly burst through the conference room doors, looking wildly panicked.  
  
"Doctor!" Picard rose to his feet, as did the other officers in the conference room. "What's wrong? Where is Ensign Crusher?"  
  
"Jean-Luc," Beverly panted, "we need help. J-Jack is at the turbolift. With Wesley. We need your help. Now."  
  
"Jack?" Picard whispered somewhat uncomprehendingly.  
  
"My husband. Please come quickly!" Beverly ran back out the door.  
  
Picard followed her, spouting orders as he went, "Number One, Mister Worf, Counselor, you're with me."  
  
Picard jogged after Beverly. "Did you touch him?"  
  
"Yes, both of us did. He's holding Wesley now."  
  
"Damn! We were rid of Tasha by touching her. I was hoping we could do the same with Jack."  
  
* * *  
  
"Wes, I died protecting my ship. Because of my sacrifice, the Stargazer and its 149 crew members were able to go on safely. What happened to me saved many lives. Now, you have the chance to save over a thousand lives. I don't know what they want with you. I don't know if they will take you, negotiate and return you, or if they will keep you, make you a prisoner, or even kill you. But, son, I promise you that I will be there the entire time. I was never there for you before, but I can be now. You knew when you joined Starfleet what the cost could be. You knew it required everything from you, and now it calls upon you to give everything that you promised it, to save the flagship of the United Federation of Planets, one last time. I will be standing by your side no matter what happens. I promise."  
  
Wes's eyes welled up. Maybe he would die today, but he'd die standing beside his father, following in his footsteps as he always had. Jack hugged him again and Wes closed his eyes. Tears spilled down his cheeks and he didn't try to stop them. It was only the second time in almost nine years that he'd cried for the death of his father, and the first was only a short while ago. He would fulfill his oath as a Starfleet officer to make every sacrifice necessary to save his ship. He would go to the Neverland with his father, alone.  
  
"Jack!" Picard's angry voice resounded around the corridor. Jack let go of Wesley and stared at Picard, a watery smile on his face. For a moment, Picard couldn't say anything. The last time he saw Jack and Wesley together, Jack had to kneel to hug him. Now, Picard couldn't think of what to tell his old friend.  
  
No. This is not my old friend.  
  
"Let the boy go," Picard spoke evenly.  
  
"No, Jean-Luc, please, don't take me away from him again," Jack plead. Picard winced at the accusation.  
  
Wesley was standing in front of Jack, facing Picard, and Wes felt Jack wrap his arms around his torso and upper arms, immobilizing him. Picard noticed that Wes wasn't struggling. He was resigned to his fate.  
  
"Wesley," Picard addressed the young man who was making no effort to free himself from the grasp of the creature who was going to take him. "Wesley, that is not your father," he jabbed a finger at Jack.  
  
Although that fact had been somewhat clouded in Wesley's mind, the renewal of that realization did not make much difference to him. The words had made their own impact on the ensign, no matter from whom they'd come. Although, a slight expression of fear was beginning to cross Wes's face.  
  
"No, Wesley's coming with me, Jean-Luc. I was never able to help him through most of his life. I was never there for him. But now I can. I can help him deal with these children. I can be with him."  
  
"Wesley, there will be no need for any of that. This... creature is not your father. He is twisting your will to get you to surrender to the children."  
  
Deanna sensed something. She sensed that the creature was thinking, trying to remember pieces of Jack's personality, or Jack's life experiences. Like an actor in a play trying to remember his research. Tasha never really liked to be touched casually, a hand on her shoulder, a pat on the back. Perhaps the creature disappeared when touched because it did not understand Tasha's story, did not know it. Perhaps if they found something about Jack that the creature wasn't prepared to deal with, something it wouldn't know about his character...  
  
"Captain," Deanna leaned over and whispered, both of them still staring at Jack holding Wesley, "can you think of anything to ask the creature that it might not know about Jack? A flaw in its characterization?"  
  
Characterization was a word to which Picard could relate. He was a devotee of the ancient plays of Earth, especially of Shakespeare, and understood the necessity for an actor to know all about the character he portrays. Perhaps this "actor" hadn't done all his homework.  
  
"Jack, do you remember the Stargazer?"  
  
"Of course I do, Jean-Luc. Where I did something similar to what my son's about to do -- sacrifice my life for the greater good of the ship."  
  
"Not an apt comparison," Picard shook his head. "If I had known the situation was dangerous, I would not have sent you planetside, there wasn't a necessity. You did not know you were going to your death, and neither did I, Jack."  
  
"Neither does Wesley. They could be completely fair with him."  
  
Picard abandoned that argument. "Do you remember your home? Your home on Earth with Beverly and Wesley?"  
  
Jack smiled gently. "Yes. Of course I do. My beautiful little house with my beautiful wife and son, and those tall, tall trees in the yard, and the sun, oh the sun that I wouldn't see for months at a time."  
  
"And the Academy, with me?"  
  
"Yes, Jean-Luc. Where are you going with this?"  
  
Picard glanced over his shoulder at Deanna, who shrugged.  
  
"I am simply trying to illustrate what a full life you'd had, and what a brief one your son has had thusfar." I'm trying to be rid of you, you monster.  
  
Then, Picard had an idea. Something that Jack would not know about. Something that no one knew about. Something that the creature would very likely not know how to handle. Picard walked slowly towards Jack and Wesley. The closer Picard got, the stronger Jack's grip around Wesley became, until Wes began to twist a little in his grasp. Picard stood very close to Jack and leaned to utter something near his ear.  
  
"I believe I am falling in love with your wife," he said so that no one could hear but Jack. And Wesley. Picard nearly flinched to have spoken it aloud, but he stepped back, met Jack's eyes, and waited.  
  
Jack's eyes opened wide in horror, then he disappeared. Wesley staggered a little, but quickly recovered himself. Then he turned a look of astonishment to Picard.  
  
Picard shrugged. "I had to say something to get rid of it," he said in a low voice to Wesley. No one else heard Picard's statements.  
  
Wesley seemed half-convinced, but had bigger things to worry about at the moment.  
  
"The meeting will reconvene at 2200 hours," Picard announced to those gathered in the hall, offering no explanation for specifically how he got rid of the creature. "Doctor, Ensign, my ready room."  
  
Picard walked off toward the bridge. Beverly took a moment to go hug her son.  
  
No one would know how strongly Picard was fighting to control his emotions about his best friend's reappearance. 


	12. Chapter Eleven

A/N: Well, it's been a bit of a while since I've updated, and I do apologize for that, things have been quite hectic in my life, but all for the best, so no worries. Hopefully I haven't lost the few but hearty followers ;) I will attempt to put up a chapter at least every other day in future.  
  
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Chapter 11  
  
The alien watched all this with intense interest. The young man had a long way to go. The B'Safrans would be very disappointed if they tried to make him control warp fields. Not yet. He had easily become confused between the moment and the past. A very Human quality, but easily overcome. In order to abandon being chained to the present, one must first be unshakably rooted in it. Otherwise, one could become wildly entangled in "when".  
  
It would come. The alien smiled. He knew it would come. It already had.  
  
* * *  
  
Beverly and Wesley entered Picard's ready room together. He was sitting behind his desk and gestured for them to sit in the chairs in front of it. Normally, there were only two chairs in front of his desk, but Picard moved a third chair from the far corner of his office to his desk. Wes wondered momentarily who it was for.  
  
"Are both of you all right?" Picard asked when they had sat down.  
  
Beverly nodded.  
  
"Yes, sir," Wes answered.  
  
"I wanted to make sure that you realize that no matter how much that looked and sounded like Jack Crusher, it was not. Somehow, something can conjure up the images of our friends who are gone and use them to confuse us. No doubt it will not stop trying.  
  
"Whatever it is, it apparently learns quickly. We can presume that it will be even more real the next time. We will have to keep finding new ways to be rid of it. I've spoken with Geordi. What he saw through his VISOR when he looked at Tasha was not Human. Most life forms are contained within a material body. Apparently, this one is not. Its composition is solely energy. It can assume any form it wishes."  
  
"Like a holodeck image," Wes volunteered.  
  
"Somewhat, Mister Crusher, only this... life form can travel through space, through walls, with no aid. The only creature we've encountered with those capabilities is Q, and I do not believe this is Q. It does not seem like his usual... mischeif. And while both seem to be malicious, Q is usually malicious by accident, through curiosity, or because he's unaware of the consequences of his behavior - or by intent to confound me, personally. This creature possesses intent."  
  
The door chime twinkled.  
  
"Come," Picard called. Counselor Deanna Troi entered. "I've asked Counselor Troi to join us. She has been receiving some strange feelings from the children. She believes that this ghost creature could be working in conjunction with the crew of the Neverland in an attempt to abduct Mister Crusher."  
  
Wes realized he hadn't been breathing in a while, so drew a long, deep breath and held it for a moment.  
  
Deanna sat in the third chair. "Both times that I was near the creature, when it took the form Tasha and then of Jack Crusher, I sensed extreme impatience and urgency, even though it did not show on the face. The longer it took to convince Wesley to come with it, the angrier it became. It is an extremely powerful entity and I have found it difficult to block or suppress the emotions it emanated. It became difficult to separate them from my own feelings. The creature never felt anything that the person whose shape it assumed would not feel in relation to the people with whom it interacted, especially Wes, until its identity was questioned. Then, I sensed anger, impatience, frustration. I am not sure if it can appear only as people who are deceased or if it can assume other forms.  
  
"I suggest that if we encounter any crew members who are acting strangely, ask the computer to locate that crew member. If the computer replies that the crew member is anywhere else besides standing in front of you, call security."  
  
At that particular moment, no one remembered that Doctor Crusher couldn't get her communicator to work in the creature's presence. Both Beverly and Wesley were still so disoriented that they were only half- listening. Both nodded in consent.  
  
"I also suggest that Wesley should not be left alone for extended periods of time." Then Deanna turned to Wes. "Make certain that if anyone contacts you whom you are certain is no longer living, no matter how they plead with you, explain themselves, play on your emotions, Wesley, do not listen to them."  
  
Wes nodded solemnly. This was going to be incredibly difficult. What if all of a sudden all his dead friends and relatives started haunting him? Wes stared at the floor.  
  
"Beverly," Deanna continued, "are you all right?"  
  
She nodded and smiled unconvincingly. "Just got to keep it straight in my head that it wasn't Jack out there with my son," she laid a hand on Wes's arm. Wes didn't acknowledge it, his gaze trained on the floor.  
  
"And you have not seen anyone else who has passed away?"  
  
Beverly shook her head.  
  
Up until this point, Picard had been silent. Emotions were not his specialty. That's why he'd asked Troi to come. He had been looking back and forth between Troi and the Crushers like a spectator at a tennis match.  
  
"And Captain," Troi studied the stone face, "how about you?"  
  
"Me what?" the captain seemed mildly surprised to be asked and his eyebrows went up innocently.  
  
"You do realize that was not Jack, don't you?"  
  
"Of course." Picard looked at his hands folded on his desk. Troi was not convinced, but did not presently pursue the subject.  
  
Deanna had sensed it, though. Picard had been wounded by the creature's pleading with him not to take him away from his son again. 'Don't take me away from him again,' it had said. As if Picard was the one who had taken Jack from his son and wife forever.  
  
But Picard had sent Jack on his final mission. Picard had sentenced his friend to death, albeit unwittingly. Picard had brought home the body of his friend to the wife and child he would never be with again. Picard now sat across from the remainder of the Crushers, a woman robbed of her husband, a boy of his father, and Picard had stolen him. And the feeling of guilt that was supposed to fade had still not disappeared. He had begun to wonder if it ever would.  
  
And on top of all that, Picard was starting to imagine that what he said to make the creature disappear was true.  
  
But right now, he had a ship to run, a meeting to head, a boy to save, and over a thousand lives to preserve. His own feelings could most certainly wait.  
  
* * *  
  
"Captain?" Wesley spoke for the first time during the meeting around the large oval conference table. There was really no need for him to speak before this. He had told his story to the captain before the meeting, and the meeting was really just a briefing to all the senior officers and involved parties of exactly what had happened and what they had learned. Now, however, Wesley remembered a detail.  
  
"Yes, ensign?"  
  
"I just remembered something we overlooked. When Mom and I were in the corridor with the creature, she tried to use her communicator, and a wall comm panel. Nothing happened."  
  
Picard looked at Beverly Crusher.  
  
Beverly blinked, attempting to recall something her mind had decided was too scary to remember. "Yes, Captain."  
  
The captain looked a little aggravated. That blew the whole idea of simply calling for security when the creature showed up.  
  
"That is a rather large oversight, Doctor. Which comm panel did you use?"  
  
"The one outside the bridge in the corridor where we found Wes."  
  
"That's number 27-A," Geordi added.  
  
"Computer, open a channel to public communicator 27-A," Picard said.  
  
The computer twinkled and beeped. Then, when no communication was forthcoming, it stated, "Ready."  
  
"Cancel," Picard said. "It appears to be working now. Doctor, please try your badge."  
  
She tapped it and the computer went through the same routine, ceasing when Beverly canceled the operation. Wes's also complied to the ensign's commands.  
  
"Captain," Geordi sat forward in his chair and folded his arms on the shiny table, "I've got an alarm that goes off when public communication wall units are inoperative. Nothing notified me."  
  
Beverly became defensive. "I promise you I tried everything to make that panel work!"  
  
"I believe you, doctor. If the creature can disable our communications, it can doubtless disable our notification alarms."  
  
"Lieutenant Worf, post a guard outside the Crushers' quarters tonight. Doctor, Ensign, don't go anywhere alone."  
  
Picard glanced around at the rest assembled. "You've been told everything we know about this creature, including our theories on how to defeat it, even if only temporarily. I expect you all to be alert and keep me informed of anything, anything, that may relate. If there's nothing else?" Picard met eyes with each of his officers one by one. "Dismissed."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Responses to Reviews:  
  
April: Thanks again for the review! Well, Karen's 13 and Wes is 18, so. no, I didn't write anything between them, she's below the age of consent! Your brother says that a Royal Flush is not the highest hand in poker?!? Tell him to come and play with me, and bring his paycheck! (He's mistaken, it is the best hand you can get - I'm a poker player m'self.) ;)  
  
DB: Thanks again! You are quite the flatterer ;) 


	13. Chapter Twelve

A/N:  
  
SUPERMAN and all related characters, names and indicia are © & TM DC Comics, 2003.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter 12  
  
Later that night, Wes sat awake in the darkened front room of his and his mother's quarters. He sat at the computer desk - nearly the only light in the room was from the computer screen. He was so tired that he was in a sort of work trance, searching through all kinds of files on alien races which resembled humanoid children and finding nothing even vaguely matching the children of the Neverland. He searched through history files to find any recounting of children in a huge ship. He searched back twenty years, since the oldest aboard that ship was no more than eighteen as far as Worf's scan could tell. He found nothing. No documentation of any similar occurrences anywhere in any known sector of the galaxy. The Enterprise sure had a proficiency for seeking out new life and new civilizations. And boldly as all get-out, too.  
  
Wes gave his fingers a rest. He sighed and leaned his chin in his palm, the words "Not Found" reflecting off the screen in his glazed eyes. He had pretty much given up. His tall frame was crumpled in a chair over the desk, and it was swiftly becoming a painful position. He leaned back over the chairback, stretched his arms over his head and straightened his legs under the desk. He was about to switch the whole stupid thing off and go to bed when the door chime twinkled.  
  
For a second, Wes felt fear in the pit of his stomach, but then he remembered the security officer standing outside the door. It must be him. Or an officer or someone that wanted to talk to him. But his mother was asleep and he was supposed to be asleep. Who would know he was awake at this hour? Maybe Deanna Troi.  
  
"Come in," he called, but not too loudly. His mother was sleeping in the next room.  
  
Lynn Costa entered. Wesley leaped from his chair.  
  
"Doctor Costa!" he shouted. "What are you doing here?"  
  
Doctor Lynn Costa had been a scientist with the Microcontamination project onboard the Enterprise about six months ago. She was working late one night when something went wrong with one of her class zero pods. It emitted a lethal gas that killed her. It was later to be determined that she had been murdered. Wesley had worked very closely with Lynn and her husband Emil (especially with Emil), but when Emil became the prime suspect of Lynn's murder, Wesley had found himself in very serious trouble and even more serious danger. Regardless of how that all turned out, Lynn Costa was still dead. This had to be the creature.  
  
"Wesley, I came to talk with you about the Microcontamination project. Emil tells me that he wants you to join us."  
  
Wesley noted that suggestion had taken place after Lynn's death. Apparently, the creature had learned to be aware of things that happened after the death of the person whose form it took. And the creature already knew to allow people to touch it. Wes was attempting to step back from this, take it all logically, keep emotionally uninvolved. What he wouldn't give to be Vulcan right now.  
  
"I've really decided to stay on the bridge, Doctor," Wesley hesitated, "they need me there."  
  
"The bridge is no place for a mind like yours, Wesley," she stepped closer to him.  
  
There's an element of truth to that, Wes thought while backing away from her.  
  
"Come with me to deck 31 and I'll show you around the lab."  
  
"I'm really more into outer space than inner space," Wesley was searching through this characterization of Lynn's personality for the flaw, the one oversight that would make her disappear.  
  
"I've seen your work in the science lab!" Lynn was getting angry and Wesley tried to edge his way toward the door where the security officer was posted outside. How did Lynn even get in here with security outside? "I say that you don't belong on this ship at all!" She grabbed his arm. He tried to pull away from her, but she was just as strong as the imitation of his father had been. "Come with me. I know a place where your talents will be put to proper use! Where your mind will not be wasted with doldrums, where your spirit can soar beyond what you've dreamed yourself capable!"  
  
"No!" Wes pulled and pulled, trying to get closer to the door. He couldn't budge. He tried something to make her disappear. "Lynn wouldn't have forced me into this!"  
  
"I'm not forcing you to do anything you don't already want, Wesley! It's for your own self-betterment!"  
  
Damn, she's way too close to right.  
  
"Stop denying your talents! You belong in science, not command! You can grow in science. You must come with me to see what I mean! I won't force you to change your mind, just promise to come with me, then you can make up your own mind."  
  
Wes was in a full-strength tug-of-war to get his arm back.  
  
"If you don't come with me, I'll have someone lock you in a class zero pod again!"  
  
Wes froze, eyes wide. He remembered that experience a little too well. It also took place after Lynn's death. Worf had assigned Wesley to tail two of the murder suspects. While eavesdropping in the clean room, he was discovered and shoved into one of the pods to wait for his air to run out.  
  
Wes shook his head, clearing those thoughts. Obviously, he'd survived. Now was time to concentrate on surviving this situation. He was at a loss at how to get rid of her.  
  
"It was all Emil and I ever hoped for you to join the science team!" she was furious and hurt at the same time. She had a double-fisted grip of Wes's forearm and he couldn't pry her fingers loose. "If you had joined the team, Emil and I would not have had to worry about whose hands the project would be in and we could have had a peaceful retirement, but no! You had to leave it all to chance for us!"  
  
Wait. That was it! The loophole!  
  
"That's not true!" Wesley cried, wondering why all this yelling had not alerted security or awakened his mother. "Lynn was about to leave Emil! She didn't want to be with him anymore at all! You weren't planning any kind of retirement!"  
  
Lynn looked surprised, then dissipated into thin air. Wesley regained his arm.  
  
For a second, Wes stood still, making sure it was gone.  
  
"Security!" he shouted, and an officer burst through the door.  
  
* * *  
  
"Apparently," Picard addressed his graveyard shift crew assembled once again in the conference room, "the creature does not keep decent hours."  
  
Or I don't keep decent hours, Wes thought guiltily. I should have been asleep.  
  
"The creature has appeared again in Mister Crusher's quarters as Doctor Lynn Costa from the Microcontamination project," Picard finished. Deanna and Worf exchanged glances. They had been in charge of the investigation surrounding the murder of Dr. Costa.  
  
"Ensign Crusher," Worf said, "did she discuss anything that took place after her death?"  
  
Wesley nodded and described in detail his encounter and the exchange regarding their desiring him to work on the project with them, and his experience of being locked in the air-tight pod.  
  
"It appears our creature is eliminating every possible way of getting rid of it," Picard observed.  
  
"Captain," Deanna asked, "how did you get rid of the creature as Jack Crusher so easily? Perhaps we can find a pattern."  
  
Picard blanched. "I... merely told it a secret between Jack and myself, of which it was evidently unaware. We shall have to keep finding things that it would not know. It's going to be more and more difficult each time, I suspect. Counselor, do you sense any presence on the ship now?"  
  
"No, captain, not right now. And I would only have sensed it before if it were in a close enough proximity to awaken me. And if its emotions were powerful enough. My quarters are not close enough to the Crushers' for me to sense it while I'm sleeping."  
  
"Well, it's certainly not possible for you to stay awake all the time and wander the ship looking for the creature. There must be some other way to know when it's coming," Picard narrowed his eyes.  
  
Geordi lifted his chin. "Have you ever noticed that Clark Kent and Superman are never in the same place at the same time?"  
  
"What?" Riker turned to Geordi in utter confusion.  
  
Data supplied the background. "I believe I understand Geordi's statement, Commander. Clark Kent. A fictitious character in illustrated fiction beginning in the early 20th century of Earth. His dual identity was Superman. Clark Kent and Superman were never in the same place at the same time because they were the same person."  
  
"Are you suggesting," Picard posed the question to Data, even though it had been Geordi's suggestion, "that the crew of the Neverland and the creature are never in contact with us at the same time because they are the same entity?"  
  
"Or they're aware of each other's efforts," Geordi finished.  
  
"Very possible," Picard said. "We had considered that briefly. They do seem to be working toward the same end."  
  
"Could they be fighting over Mister Crusher?" Riker asked.  
  
Wes resisted the urge to bang his head on the table.  
  
"This is most unlikely," Data concluded, "since they both want him on the Neverland."  
  
Wes's relief was minimal.  
  
"It's my fault it came back, sir," Wes studied the well-polished top of the conference table. "I stayed up late. If I'd been asleep, it couldn't talk to me. Or if I hadn't let it come in--"  
  
"It's not a vampire, Wes," Deanna plead on Wes's behalf. "I believe that if it wanted to come in and you had told it that it couldn't, it would have come in anyway. And if you'd been asleep, it probably would have awoken you."  
  
All the color drained from Wes's face.  
  
Deanna regretted her words. She's relieved his feelings of guilt, but replaced them with fear.  
  
Woken me up? Fear settled like a ball of lead in the pit of Wesley's stomach. Come in anyway? Great, I'm going to have the ghosts of my father, Tasha and Lynn dancing around my bed at night. Whatever happened to harmless night fears like boogeymen? Although Wes remembered that boogeymen were not exactly harmless, either, especially when mixed with a holodeck program.  
  
Picard asked, "Do you remember anything else that might be helpful, Mister Crusher?"  
  
Wes thought aloud. "Well, just that she had incredible strength, just like my dad did -- or, when it imitated my dad, that is. And she got real angry, she was shouting at-- Hey, that's another thing! We were both practically screaming at each other, and it never woke up Mom, and it never alerted the guard outside the door or anything."  
  
"I heard nothing, and the door never opened," answered the large, blue-skinned Antarean guard who was sitting down toward the end of the table.  
  
"Neither did I," Beverly glanced back and forth between her son and the guard.  
  
"At this point, it seems that it's a personal attack on a member of my command crew. Since we cannot even identify, let alone confront, the attacker, I seem to have no other choice but to put Mister Crusher under constant guard."  
  
"What?" Wes said, a little too loudly, "Basically... I'd be a prisoner?"  
  
Picard blinked. "I'm aware that it will be a great sacrifice to you, Mister Crusher, but at this point I have no other means with which to protect you. Unless someone can suggest something."  
  
"We could leave a comm link open from Crusher's quarters to the bridge," Riker suggested.  
  
"It'd probably just go down when the creature appeared," Geordi said.  
  
"But then we'd know it was there," Riker countered.  
  
"Yes, but to have every sound of our living quarters broadcast constantly to the bridge?" Beverly was scandalized.  
  
"That's out of the question," Picard said.  
  
"That didn't occur to me," Riker shrugged.  
  
Deanna addressed Beverly, "Would you object to making me your houseguest for a bit?"  
  
Beverly raised her eyebrows in acknowledgment and looked to Picard.  
  
"You're certain the arrival of the creature would wake you in such proximity?"  
  
"Yes, Captain."  
  
Picard stared hard at Ensign Crusher, who began to feel uncomfortable under the scrutiny. At length, he decided. "Make it so." The captain glanced at each of his officers. "Now all of you get some sleep. I need you all to be sharp, and I can't have any of you dragging about because you haven't slept. Understood?"  
  
* * *  
  
"I'm like this big magnet for psychos, ever since we came aboard this ship!" Wes vented his frustration to his mother and Deanna on the way back to their quarters. "There's got to be hundreds of kids on this ship! And if you want to get technical, I'm eighteen. I'm not a kid. Why me? I mean, look at my track record. Q kills me and Commander Riker brings me back to life and changes me into an adult. A sterile planet kidnaps me to perpetuate their race. I trap Mom in a shrinking warp bubble and this weird alien shows up and pulls me out of my space-time continuum to save you. I fall on some flowers on a paradise planet and get sentenced to death. Every time we set the Enterprise for self-destruct -- which has been pretty often, if you ask me -- I'm at Helm ready to die, rather than escaping in the saucer section. Every girl I've ever loved has either been such a klutz she's broken every bone in my body or been a shape-changing alien that could have broken every bone in my body. And now, some little girl with a really big ship is gonna blow up the Enterprise unless she gets me! And she's sending ghosts of everyone I've ever cared about to convince me! This is more stress than someone my age should have to handle. Why don't they go haunt someone else?"  
  
"I don't know, Wes," Beverly sighed wearily. She knew he didn't want an answer. He knew she didn't have one. He was just using her as a sounding board, and God knows he needed to vent. "I just hope this creature has to sleep sometime."  
  
"Are you both sure you don't mind me spending the night?" Deanna asked.  
  
"No, of course not, Deanna," Beverly laid a hand on her friend's shoulder. "I'm glad we're not putting Wes under 24-hour surveillance."  
  
"Yeah, me too!" Wes couldn't keep the frustration from his voice.  
  
Without being asked, both Beverly and Wesley left the doors to their bedrooms open that night. Before turning in, though, Beverly mentioned offhand that it was in case Deanna needed her for some reason.  
  
* * *  
  
The alien did not hold it against the boy that he had called him strange, and to be honest, he did have a lot of strange things happen to him in his four years on the Enterprise.  
  
But the boy did not realize yet that the alien did not take him out of his time. The boy took himself out. As soon as he acknowledged that, he would be ready to come with him.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Responses to Reviews:  
  
Bishoen Huntress: Thanks, sis ;) Love you too. And I'm working on yours, really I am. I started out backwards and got all confused, so I have to start over without the ADID (Attention Deficit Impatience Disorder ;D ). And OY! Brianna means "strong"! BREENA means "Fairy Palace!" *frown, pout, folds arms, feels all misrepresented*  
  
Kristy Marie: Thank you very much :) I was of two minds on how to get Jack out of there, and I still think I trod dangerously close to Cheese Whiz territory, but I'm glad it didn't throw you! The Cheese Whiz, I assure you, is on its way. ;P ~and~ Ooh, the neice of a professional. hrm. maybe I fold ;) And as for what happens with Wes and the ladies, well. you'll see. 


	14. Chapter Thirteen

A/N: I apologize for the varying length of chapters, some are quite short and others - this one, particularly - are very long! And, for those to whom I promised Cheese Whiz. voilà. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter 13  
  
The next morning when Beverly woke up, she heard Deanna moving around outside. She got out of bed and walked out into the front room. Deanna was folding the blanket she had slept under last night.  
  
"How long have you been awake?" Beverly stretched and walked out the doorway toward Deanna.  
  
"Only a few minutes," Deanna was still in her uniform. She had slept in it on the Crushers' couch. "I'm sorry I woke you."  
  
"You didn't," Beverly started towards Wesley's door to drag him out of bed. She halted in the doorway. "Deanna!" she called, frantic. "Wesley's gone!"  
  
Deanna rushed over and looked around the room, then sighed with relief. "Beverly, do you think he would have stopped to make his bed if he were being abducted?"  
  
Beverly took a breath. "Maybe they did that, to make it look like he was still here." Now she was being ridiculous. "Computer, locate Ensign Wesley Crusher."  
  
"Ensign Crusher is in Holodeck C."  
  
Beverly sighed with relief, but Deanna could feel the annoyance that was still underneath.  
  
"Well, he shouldn't go running off without telling me where he's going when we're trying to prevent him from being abducted!"  
  
"We must have been asleep when he got up."  
  
"Well, he could have left a message," Beverly pointed to the recorder, and its little red light was lit. He had left a message. She pressed the button.  
  
"Hi, Mom. I'm just going down to one of the holodecks, probably B or C, whichever one's open. Don't worry, I'm having security escort me down and stay outside the door, and I'm going to try to find Robin or somebody to go in with, so I won't be alone. I'm going to do a little target practice before my shift. I'll see you later."  
  
"Oh," Beverly said in a very small voice.  
  
"Maybe Wes has the right idea, Beverly. Maybe you need a holodeck, too."  
  
"I don't have time for a holodeck. I have to be down in sickbay in forty-five minutes," she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror, "and I look horrid!" she exclaimed. Beverly, who looked radiant even without makeup or neatly combed hair, pouted at her reflection. Deanna sighed, crossed her arms and curled neatly manicured fingers around them.  
  
* * *  
  
Two figures labored in the glaring sun of a white-hot sky. Droplets of water rolled from tropical leaves large enough to be umbrellas. Not even the slightest breeze stirred the hanging vines. Strange bird calls sounded and died in an echoless plaint. The land was flat for as far as one could see. The young man stood at the edge of the rainforest near the horrible contrast of the barren desert. He studied the underbrush not a hundred feet away where the enemy lurked, waiting.  
  
"No, you have to hold it tightly so the site doesn't kick off target when you fire," Wesley bent Karen Nolan's fingertips around a holo-produced phaser.  
  
"Like this?" Karen gripped the phaser, closed one eye tightly and aimed across the clearing.  
  
"Yeah." Wes breathed, staring over her shoulder in anticipation at the rustling bushes. His inadvertent whisper near her ear threw Karen's concentration.  
  
Karen had caught up with Wes on his way to the holodeck and asked to come along. Robin was not around, and Wes wasn't allowed to be alone. What could he say?  
  
Suddenly, an alien like Wesley had never encountered before leapt out of the bushes, growling, and it headed for them, phaser drawn.  
  
"Now!" Wesley hissed. Karen pulled off a wild shot that missed the alien by feet. The next one went over his head. Wes drew his own phaser and fired a warning shot past the alien's nose, trying to lure its fire away from Karen so she could get a clear, uninterrupted shot. He ran around the alien's left, straifing and firing around it the whole time. He wanted poor Karen to be the one to actually hit the alien.  
  
Wes saw a streak of light fly past his nose. Quickly, he shot the alien dead. "Freeze program," he called and started walking back toward Karen. Karen stood, humiliated. She had almost stunned Wesley in the face.  
  
Wes held out his hand. Karen sheepishly relinquished the holo-phaser set to stun. "Holodeck" stun is nowhere near as painful as real stun, but it would be like getting a slushball in the face at 30 miles per hour. Wes had no desire for a big bruise across his nose. He couldn't blame Karen, though. Not totally.  
  
"I guess I shouldn't have let you try this yet," Wes put their phasers on the ground by a tree.  
  
"No, it's not your fault," Karen said. "I... I didn't hit you, did I?"  
  
"No," Wes half-laughed and looked at the ground. "But you came closer to me than you did to that alien."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't be. I designed this program to be really challenging for me, and I'm crew. You're not trained in this."  
  
Karen laughed an embarrassed little laugh. After an appropriate pause, she asked, "Did you get all that work done last night?"  
  
"What wo-- Oh yeah. Yeah, it was a snap."  
  
"Really? It sounded so hard!" she said in awe again. Wesley hated when she was in awe. She really wasn't such a bad kid. She could probably get any boy her own age. She just had to shake all this hero-worship stuff.  
  
"Well," Wes decided to fault himself a little in her eyes. It couldn't hurt to let her know he was only Human. "I messed up the first configuration, but Data helped me," he lied.  
  
"Oh," Karen was reminded that Wesley was not Hephaestus. She suddenly looked startled. "I'm supposed to meet Jennifer at her quarters at 900. What time is it?"  
  
Wes checked his chronometer. "It's 0913."  
  
"Oh no! I better run. Bye, Wesley! And, thank you!" she ran out. Wes watched her go, then took a deep breath. It was hard work being around her.  
  
He turned back to the program. He picked up a phaser and ducked behind a tree.  
  
"Computer, resume program!" he shouted. Three aliens jumped into view, searching for the murderer of their slain cohort. Wesley fired out from behind the tree, then straifed around the edge of the forest, and managed to take out all three aliens in less than thirty seconds. After they all lay "dead" on the ground, he stepped out into the open. He knew there would be no more aliens in this scenario because he had written the program himself.  
  
All of a sudden, Wes felt a phaser blast slam into his chest. He toppled over backwards and his head thunked on the ground. The trees spun above him. He tried to sort out in his mind what had happened.  
  
Four aliens... only four... one with Karen... I got three... who just shot me?  
  
He tried to sit up and clear his head when another shot hit him, same spot, and he fell back. He heard footsteps approaching.  
  
"Computer," he groaned weakly, "freeze program." The program froze. The bird calls stopped, the water stopped dripping, the heat of the sun faded. The footsteps continued. Wes's head was still spinning and he couldn't lift it.  
  
"You're dead, Orange," a voice called.  
  
Orange???  
  
Clear head or not, Wesley sat bolt upright, eyes wide with surprise. A very tall, very thin, very attractive young Humanoid male stood before him, smirking, and blew across the end of his phaser as if it were a 19th century revolver still smoking.  
  
"Jaan?" Wes stood and retreated a few steps to lean against a tree. He was squinting against dizziness.  
  
Jaan, a Selelvian (the race nicknamed "Elves") friend of Wesley's had died of a phaser blast in the hands of an enemy on the bridge of the Enterprise not a full year earlier. Wesley couldn't handle this ghost. He'd investigated Lynn's death. He mourned Tasha's death. He missed his father every day of his life. But he felt RESPONSIBLE for Jaan's death.  
  
An Elf lives to be about 250 years old, so Jaan was relatively Wes's age, and his best friend. As an Elf, Jaan looked like a Human being, only taller, thinner and more graceful. His eyes were large and almond-shaped, fringed with beautiful eyelashes. His hair was deep brown. His skin was olive-bronze. Elves were among the most beautiful beings in the known galaxy. No wonder they had an ability they called The Knack that allowed them to bend almost any being to their will. How could you not obey such a charming creature?  
  
Once, Jaan had collapsed in Ten-Forward, and was horrified to discover he was dying of an incurable disease. Jaan had about a month to live and there wasn't anything anyone could do about it.  
  
Wes found this unacceptable. He had taken it upon himself to find a cure for Jaan's sickness. But just when Wes was closest, Jaan was killed by another means: a phaser. Right on the bridge of the Enterprise with the crew all around.  
  
Wesley had not been there. Wes had spent a week without food or sleep researching a possible cure for Jaan with no success, wasting away to nothing and going a little bit off his rocker. He had lost thirteen pounds and grown five days worth of stubble before Picard told him Jaan was dead. Wes had cried himself out in Picard's arms, for Jaan and, for the first time in eight years, for his father.  
  
Wes had not found a cure. He had not been good enough, quick enough, thorough enough. He had let his friend die. At least, that's how Wes felt about it.  
  
He couldn't handle this ghost. Not this one.  
  
"You never could beat me, Orange. You're just not quick enough!" Jaan smiled charmingly.  
  
"You're not Jaan..."  
  
Jaan stared, confused, then laughed. "You're just saying that because I beat you again!" Jaan stepped towards Wesley, who pressed his back up against the tree, recoiling from Jaan. "Hey, what's wrong?" Jaan looked puzzled. He and Wes were best friends. Why was he backing away? "Orange?"  
  
Jaan had always called Wes "Orange" because his last name was like the name of an old Earth drink "Orange Crush" that Jaan had found in some of the old replicator files. Wesley wondered how the creature knew this. Then he realized he would have to keep reminding himself that this was not Jaan.  
  
Somehow, Wes thought, I don't think this is going to be so easy...  
  
"Orange, you okay?" Jaan reached out a hand to help him, "you look like you've seen a ghost of something."  
  
"I have." Wes corrected himself, "I mean, I am."  
  
"What?" Jaan glanced around the holodeck. "You're acting weird, Wes. Are you sure you're okay? Did I blast you too hard or something?" Jaan checked the setting on his phaser.  
  
The back of Wesley's mind was still asking why Jaan appeared so real and how Jaan would know if Wes were acting weird if the creature never knew Wes to begin with. And how would the creature know about "Orange"? And how would it know that Jaan always beat Wes at Phaser Tag?  
  
"Uh-huh. I mean, no. I'm fine."  
  
"Good," Jaan said, disregarding the fact that Wesley sounded unconvincing. "Hey, who was that girl that was in here before? She likes you."  
  
Wes was beginning to forget to wonder how he knew all these things. He was starting to believe he was with his friend again. "Billy Nolan's little cousin Karen. She... thinks I'm something else, I guess..." Wes was feeling awfully confused.  
  
"Well, you impress her. That mind of yours," Jaan smirked. "Told ya that would get you far with the ladies. Best thing next to the Knack."  
  
"She's just a kid, Jaan."  
  
"She can't be all that much younger than you, is she? I was in an interesting tangle with Deanna Troi, and she's a whole lot younger than I am!"  
  
"That different, Jaan," Wes found himself smiling. "Relatively, you're younger than her. You'll outlive her by half a century."  
  
"You don't know that."  
  
"Huh?" the thought that this was the creature and not Jaan worked its way to the forefront of Wesley's mind. He tried for a loophole, more as a test of curiosity than a self-defense tactic. Wes was not feeling threatened currently. "Of course. You died earlier this year."  
  
"I what?" Jaan laughed. "Oh, that's rich, Orange. Are you counting that one single time you actually got a shot home on me in Phaser Tag? I still say it's not fair, you snuck up on me!"  
  
Wes was too confused to comment.  
  
"I meant that you don't know how long Deanna's going to live. She won't outlive Ambassador Sarek."  
  
"What? Why do you say that?"  
  
"I've become psychic in my old age."  
  
Wes narrowed his eyes at him, searching for truth in what should have been an obviously sarcastic statement.  
  
"Wait," Jaan closed his eyes and touched his temples, "I'm getting a vision. It's... I'm seeing... I'm seeing a note... for me, from Deanna... she just couldn't go on without me..." Jaan opened one eye to see Wes's deadpan face.  
  
Then Wes cracked a smile. "You're pulling my leg."  
  
Jaan punched Wes's arm, "Damn straight. You need to lighten up. Must be all those dead people I hear have been chasing you around."  
  
Wesley was suddenly reminded again that Jaan was one of the dead people. "Who are you? What do you want?"  
  
"Wes!" Jaan laughed, exasperated. "All right, fine! My name is Jaan of the Selevians. My mission is to find out what has suddenly driven Orange Crush crazy."  
  
"Jaan is dead."  
  
"Orange is loopy," Jaan imitated his friend's cold tone, but started to look worried. "Orange, are you mad at me or something?"  
  
"No!" Wes didn't want to do anything to hurt his friend. But this wasn't his friend. Was it? No, Jaan was dead. Wasn't he? Then who was this? Wes wasn't quite thinking clearly. It was a sensation very similar to being Knacked.  
  
"Then why are you acting like this? You keep saying I'm dead. What does that mean, that I'm dead to you? Look, Wes, whatever I did, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. It's not worth our friendship."  
  
"No, Jaan, it's not you. There's this creature that's after me that takes on the forms of people close to me who have died."  
  
"Whoa, like your father?" Jaan's large, almond-shaped eyes went round with surprise and concern.  
  
"Yes, and Tasha. And Doctor Costa."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Lynn Costa, she was one of the top scientists with the Microcontamination project. She was transferred onto the ship about two months after you..." Wesley trailed off. "Died."  
  
Jaan became angry. "Crusher, what the hell are you talking about?"  
  
"Jaan, don't you remember your sickness?"  
  
"Yes! And don't I remember your cure! You saved my life. I owe everything to you."  
  
"What cure? I never found a--"  
  
"The one you worked for a week on! Wes, I never had such a good friend."  
  
"What was the name of the cure?"  
  
"You think I can pronounce it? It had a lot of letters. I don't remember. Oh, who cares? It worked! I'm alive, obviously."  
  
Wes poked Jaan in the shoulder. Jaan looked at his shoulder, then back at Wes and laughed a short laugh. "Testing to see if I'm real?"  
  
"If you're alive," Wes began suspiciously, "where have you been for almost a year?"  
  
"Wes, I had to go back to my people. You knew that. I was here to document the Federation. And to write."  
  
"But what about the shoot-out on the bridge?"  
  
"Yeah, I sure was lucky, wasn't I?"  
  
"Lucky???"  
  
"Yeah, that my ship beamed me out of there just as this big old phaser beam was coming straight at me, set to kill!"  
  
"Beamed you out?"  
  
"Yeah. They sent me a communiqué the day before to tell me they were coming, and I'd told them I was in some trouble and needed out as soon as possible. They got me as quickly as possible -- not a moment too soon!"  
  
"Do you realize that every single person on this ship thinks you're dead?"  
  
"They think I'm dead?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes, really!"  
  
"Did Deanna cry?"  
  
"Jaan!"  
  
"Well, did she?"  
  
"Everyone did. It wasn't fair."  
  
"Even you?"  
  
"Especially me!"  
  
"And they still think I'm dead?"  
  
"Yes! They saw you get shot on the bridge! And if you lived, you would have died of the Rot anyway."  
  
"No I wouldn't've. Wes, don't you remember that chemical compound you came up with that was so close to right?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Well it worked."  
  
"I never gave it to you. I never got the chance."  
  
Jaan shuffled his feet. "I sort of... took it."  
  
"Out of my room?" Wesley's eyebrows shot up.  
  
"Well, yeah. I mean, you were going to give it to me anyway, right?"  
  
Wes became somber again. "Jaan, why did you betray the Federation like that?"  
  
"Oh, man, Orange, do we have to talk about that?" Jaan tried to keep his attitude light with little success. Wes stared at him. "I was desperate, Orange," Jaan's voice softened and his pleasant expression fell away. "I was dying. They offered me a way to live. I committed a minor infraction for that, but they said it wasn't enough. They said there was no turning back. They said if I didn't help them, they'd rat on me, and if I didn't keep helping them, I'd never get the cure. By the time I had your cure in my hands, it was too late to free myself from them."  
  
"Jaan..."  
  
"I never meant to become a traitor, Wes, you've got to believe me. If everyone on this ship thinks I'm dead, ...well, I'd like to keep it that way. They all hate me anyway."  
  
"No, they don't."  
  
"Humans just don't understand. It's not the same. It's like as if a Human died at age fourteen. It's not right."  
  
"I understand."  
  
"I know," Jaan looked into Wesley's eyes. He had him. Wesley had completely forgotten about the creature. Now to move in for the kill. "I had to come back and show this to you," Jaan held out a computer PADD. "My work. I finished it. You won't believe what's happened since I last saw you, Orange. I'm married and I'm writing for a living now. And this," he further extended the PADD to Wes, "will keep me alive long after I'm gone. My writing."  
  
Wes looked at the PADD but did not take it. "How did you get aboard?"  
  
"I had them transport me right to your exact location! They've got some incredible technology, Wes, you'd love to see it. Maybe I could--"  
  
"Who's they?"  
  
"The B'Safrans, of course. My home planet is too far away for me to be just passing through. I hitched a ride. Actually, I stowed away..."  
  
"Who are the B'Safrans?"  
  
"On the Neverland! Geez, Orange, you usually know more about the ships you rendezvous with."  
  
"The children?"  
  
"I thought they looked young. Even for Humanoids."  
  
"You hitched a ride across half the quadrant on that ship and nobody noticed you?"  
  
"I didn't say no one noticed," Jaan winked, "it's just that no one seemed inclined to rat me out!"  
  
"Jaan," Wesley was intense now, ignoring the Elf's light-hearted jokes. He took Jaan by both shoulders and looked him directly in the eyes. "You've got to tell me absolutely everything you know about those children and the ship you were on."  
  
"They're kids. I don't know. I didn't pay attention."  
  
"Jaan! Everything!"  
  
"Okay! All right!" Jaan was miffed. "Come all this way to show you my work and tell you about my wife and work and all you want to know about is the barge I shipped over on," he muttered.  
  
"I'm sorry, Jaan. It's wonderful about your writing and your marriage. But right now, my life is in serious danger."  
  
"Your life is in danger? From those kids? But... But they were the most peaceful life forms I've ever met!"  
  
"Peaceful! They fired on the Enterprise and almost ripped it in half!"  
  
"What? While I was on board? I didn't hear anything about firing on the Enterprise!"  
  
"Did you hear anything about their ship being in distress?"  
  
"No. I heard they were expecting a delegate from the Enterprise at any moment. I guess they have business with you guys."  
  
"The only business they have with us is either stealing our ship or destroying it."  
  
"Not a chance. The Enterprise? They'd get ruined. The Enterprise is the most heavily armed ship I've ever been on."  
  
"The Neverland is the most heavily armed ship you've ever been on. They blew out 88% of our shields with a single shot. And they want to negotiate with me alone."  
  
Jaan burst out laughing.  
  
"Hey!" Wes was not really insulted.  
  
"Man, Wes, you should come back over there with me. With your brain and my expert ability to convince people, we'd be a huge success. I'd Knack 'em so fast they'd be giving you their ship!"  
  
"Wait. Jaan, you're on good terms with these children?"  
  
"Wes. It's me you're talking to. I'm on good terms with everybody."  
  
"How about officers?"  
  
"I'm kinda tight with the captain."  
  
"Kaelha?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
Wes thought for a second. "We could use you. Let me talk to Captain Picard about you coming over there with me."  
  
"Ohhh no! Not in this lifetime! He hates me! There's no way I'm going to see him, or any other officer on this ship. I'm not crazy."  
  
"That's debatable," Wes grinned. "You hitchhiked over here to tell me in person, risking your life on both ships, what a communiqué could have told me just as well, and you could have sent me a holophoto of your wife."  
  
"I'll show you a picture later. I'll wait here, you go talk to Captain What's-His-Name."  
  
"Picard."  
  
"Yeah, him. I'll just wait here where no one can kill me."  
  
"And where you can't Knack any of the women."  
  
Jaan had a dawning. "Wait, maybe I should come with you, in case any of the Starfleet women need my help, right?"  
  
"You'll stay here. I'll leave the program on and running, so no one will come in." Wes turned to leave, then stopped. He turned back to Jaan, a very small smile on his face. "I'm glad you're back. You have no idea how much I missed you."  
  
Jaan stood silent for a moment, then stepped toward Wesley, "Aw, c'mere ya big lug!" and powerfully embraced him.  
  
"Hey! You're gonna break me!"  
  
"Sorry, Orange." A strained expression crossed Jaan's delciate features, one of someone reigning control back over themselves.  
  
"It's okay. I... I thought you were dead. And now you're back."  
  
"Don't get used to it, Orange, this place gives me the creeps. I'm leaving as soon as I can."  
  
"But not till I get back!" Wesley pointed an index finger at him, then strode out the door.  
  
Once Wes was gone, the creature broke into an evil grin. I should try this Selevian Knack thing more often. The Human boy bought my story with no questions asked. But now the difficult part -- taking on the form of a living person.  
  
Then Jaan's form disappeared so the creature could materialize again to emerge from the turbolift onto the bridge. 


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter 14  
  
Deanna Troi emerged from the turbolift onto the bridge. The bridge was occupied by only Picard, Riker, Worf, Data, and an ensign or two floating around engineering and helm. Deanna strode up to Picard, slight distress on her face.  
  
"Captain," she gasped, "are you needed on the bridge at the moment?"  
  
Picard and Riker exchanged slightly worried glances, then Picard turned back to Troi.  
  
"Not urgently. What's wrong, Counselor?"  
  
"I was just walking past the meeting room in the hall near my quarters, and I sensed something from inside, but I couldn't sense it strongly enough, so I went inside. I entered a field."  
  
"Entered a field?"  
  
"Some kind of field of presence, sir, just inside the meeting room. As soon as I leave it, the sensation stops. It was as if... it was like..." she let all her air out in frustration. "I can't explain it unless it's happening to me. Would you come with me and I'll show you?"  
  
"Certainly, Counselor," Picard stood and straightened the top of his uniform. With a glance to Riker that said wordlessly, You have the bridge, Number One, he was on the turbolift with Deanna Troi.  
  
* * *  
  
"Computer," Wesley Crusher tapped his insignia, "locate Captain Jean- Luc Picard."  
  
"Captain Picard is in Meeting Room 12," the monotone female voice answered.  
  
"Is there a meeting going on?" Wesley thought twice about disturbing the Captain during an important meeting with a suggestion he'd already refused.  
  
"Negative."  
  
Well, all right then. Wesley strode down the corridors towards the conference room, wondering offhand why the captain was using the meeting room farthest from the bridge.  
  
* * *  
  
"All right, Counselor. I'm ready when you are," the captain glanced surreptitiously around the room, then at Deanna. They stood in the center of the tiny meeting room that had no furniture whatsoever.  
  
Then, Deanna startled Picard by saying in a voice entirely not her own, "My purpose, Jean-Luc, is to get you just far enough from the bridge so that I can get back there faster than you to give my orders." And to get you in the meeting room so the computer would locate you as here when the Human boy requested it. Then get you out of here so I can take your place.  
  
With the words "give my orders," the voice and likeness of Troi became Picard just opposite the real captain, then vanished completely. With a little quick thinking, Picard touched his communicator and called Commander Riker.  
  
"Riker here."  
  
"Number One, I am in Meeting Room 12 and beginning to walk back to the bridge now. If I appear in less time than it would take me to walk from here to there, disregard any orders I give."  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"It appears our creature has learned to imitate living persons."  
  
"Understood, sir."  
  
"I'm on my way, now. Picard out." Captain Picard strode purposefully from the room, not rushing so that should he appear too quickly on the bridge his own orders would be disregarded. As soon as he had left the room, the creature reappeared as Picard in the meeting room. Not a moment later, the hapless Wesley Crusher strode in.  
  
"Captain."  
  
"Ensign. What can I do for you, Mister Crusher?" the creature said without even the hint of a smile, a perfect imitation of the real Captain Picard.  
  
"Sir," Wesley hesitated slightly. "I have a plan about going to the Neverland."  
  
"I will not send you over there, Mister Crusher, and I believe we have discussed this before."  
  
"Yes, sir. But, do you remember Jaan, the Selelvian?"  
  
"Yes, I do. Have you seen the creature impersonate him as well?"  
  
"No, sir. You see, sir, ...he's not dead, sir."  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
Wes proceeded to explain "Jaan's" entire supposed situation to "Picard", not knowing he was explaining the story to the same person who told it to him. Picard nodded and nodded, seeming to mull over every detail.  
  
"What if we were to send also Geordi and Ensign Wallace?" Picard hypothesized. "They are young persons as well, older than you, but young nonetheless. Perhaps we could get away with that."  
  
"Yes, sir!" Wesley was so excited to hear Picard considering his plan that he didn't bother to question his captain's sudden change of heart. Then Wes paused. "Does it absolutely have to be Ensign Wallace as the other member of my away team?"  
  
"She is in Security. I would like to have someone trained in defense there with you."  
  
"Isn't there someone else, sir?"  
  
"She is the youngest commissioned officer in Security presently, and one of the best. Do you have a personal problem with her, ensign?"  
  
"No, sir. It's just... I don't want her to get hurt, sir."  
  
"I don't want any of you to get hurt, Mister Crusher. This is the safest way I can imagine to prevent that."  
  
"Aye, sir."  
  
"Assemble the other members of your away team and meet me in Transporter Room Three in exactly twenty minutes. I will brief everyone then, and I will have documents for you to bring that will instruct you as to what you are to offer and what means you should not exceed. We must arrange for a constant communications link between yourselves and the bridge of this ship. Your PADDs will also contain contingency plans in case cooperation is not given. Try to stall them a few days, when we can have the other four starships here to assist."  
  
"Aye, sir."  
  
"You're dismissed, ensign," Picard nodded and Wesley left. Wes hadn't intended to endanger anyone else, but Picard had given orders and orders are not requests.  
  
"This was easier than I thought," the creature said, still in Picard's accent, once Wesley was out of sight. Then Picard disappeared and Beverly Crusher appeared in his place.  
  
"Now," it sighed in Beverly's voice, placing her hands on her hips, "to make sure he hurries." The creature faded away, a little more slowly than usual.  
  
* * *  
  
As Wesley was barreling down the corridor towards Engineering to gather Geordi LaForge, "Beverly Crusher" rounded a corner from the other direction and almost crashed into her son.  
  
"Whoa!" she smiled. "Where are you headed so quickly?"  
  
"Captain Picard ordered me, Geordi, Robin and Jaan over to the Neverland to negotiate. I've got fifteen minutes to transport. Gotta dash!"  
  
"Wait a minute!" she grabbed Wes by the elbow, carefully, so as not to crush him, as usual. "He's sending you over there? And did you say Jaan?"  
  
"Yes, and yes, but it's a long story."  
  
"I've got time."  
  
"I don't! I have to get going, and quickly! I'm on a schedule, here!"  
  
"Wesley Richard Crusher, you are not going anywhere until I find out exactly what's going on!"  
  
"Mom! What's with you? I'm a Starfleet officer and I have orders! You want a briefing? Read my report when I get back. Right now, I've got fifteen minutes to assemble my team, gather all the information, brief them all, learn to be a diplomat, and beam over." Wes broke away from her, more than a little annoyed.  
  
"I'll talk to the Captain. Maybe I can talk him out of this madness," Beverly rushed off down the corridor away from Engineering.  
  
Wes didn't dignify that with a response. What the hell was wrong with his mother? She'd never been so overprotective and stubborn! She's always understood these situations! He turned and headed down towards Engineering.  
  
As soon as Wes was out of sight, Beverly stopped walking and leaned against a wall. Overdid that a little, it thought. But that Human child is so damned annoying, and I'm so damned tired...  
  
Robin Wallace chose that moment to come around the corner.  
  
"Doctor Crusher!" she raced to her side and took her arm. "Are you all right?"  
  
The creature did not say a word, but collapsed against Robin. Robin staggered but managed to support the swooning surgeon. Robin shifted the doctor a little in her arms and stretched a finger towards her comm badge to call for a med team. But before she could call, the figure and form of Beverly Crusher flickered and disappeared. Much alarmed, Robin almost fell forward with the sudden lack of weight to support. She blinked in disbelief.  
  
"Computer, has anyone been transported from my location within the last ten seconds?"  
  
"Negative."  
  
Now she punched her badge. "Computer, locate Doctor Beverly Crusher."  
  
"Doctor Beverly Crusher is in sickbay."  
  
"Ensign Wallace to Doctor Crusher."  
  
"Go ahead, ensign," Beverly's voice responded.  
  
"Are you all right?"  
  
There was a pause. "Well, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"  
  
"How long have you been in sickbay?"  
  
"I've been here all morning. Are you all right?"  
  
"Yes, Doctor, thank you, but I'm afraid I don't have time to explain. Wallace out. Wallace to Lieutenant Worf."  
  
"Lieutenant Worf is on the bridge," the computer voice warned. Robin had programmed her badge to signal her when she called someone who might not be in a convenient situation to be disturbed. "Proceed?"  
  
"Yes!" Robin was a little agitated, "Wallace to Lieutenant Worf."  
  
"Worf here. What's wrong, ensign?" Worf knew right away that there was a major problem. Robin never disturbed him on the bridge unless there was.  
  
"Sir, I am in Corridor F outside Engineering. Doctor Crusher was here, but she fainted, then disappeared. The computer shows no record or anyone being transported from this location, and Doctor Crusher has been in sickbay all morning. I don't know what happened, sir."  
  
"We have been in contact with a creature that can take on the form of other living or deceased persons. I must ask you. What was the creature doing when you encountered it?"  
  
"Leaning against a wall, sir."  
  
"That is all?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Was Wesley Crusher anywhere near?"  
  
Robin thought this a strange question. "No, sir."  
  
"Thank you, ensign. Keep me apprised of any other incidents you see which may relate."  
  
"Aye, sir," she replied, still much confused. Robin had not yet been contacted by Wes and told of her impending mission to the Neverland.  
  
* * *  
  
Geordi was on his way to Transporter Room Three and Wes was headed for the holodecks. Rather than page everyone, Wes had decided to gather them one at a time, explaining their part in the mission as he went.  
  
"Computer, locate Ensign Robin Wallace."  
  
"Ensign Robin Wallace is in Corridor H, Deck 18."  
  
That was not far from where Wesley was, so he decided to head her off. When he saw her, she was ahead of him in the corridor, walking away from him. He called to her and she stopped to let him catch up.  
  
"I've got orders," he began, "from Captain Picard to head an away team to the Neverland--"  
  
"That ship we've been rendezvoused with for almost two days now?"  
  
Wes blinked. He'd never heard anyone try to use English verb conjugation on a French noun. "Yeah. They're hostile and I'm ordered to go over and negotiate."  
  
"You? Negotiate with a hostile enemy?" Her tone of voice was infused with deep concern. "But-- why?"  
  
"They are all children and they want to deal with people as close to their own age as possible. The captain has requested an away team consisting of myself, Geordi LaForge, a Selelvian named Jaan, and... And you."  
  
"Me?" Wes nodded and Robin continued. "They want to negotiate with a lieutenant, two ensigns, one of which is non-commissioned, and a civilian?" Wes nodded again. Robin's voice softened. "Am I ordered or requested?"  
  
"Uh... well, ordered. But I tried to talk him out of it."  
  
"Why?" Robin looked a little hurt.  
  
"Well, I didn't want to drag anyone else into this with me -- this could be anything from negotiations to a death trap."  
  
"Death trap?" Now Robin started to look worried about the orders.  
  
"We don't know what their intentions are. It seems unlikely that they really want to negotiate with me, they've got to have some kind of ulterior motive. We're really left with no other options at this point, we either comply, or they turn the Enterprise into space dust. I doubt they'd want to kill me over there, but that is a definite possibility..."  
  
"Wes, if there was even a slight possibility they'd kill you, I doubt Captain Picard would--"  
  
"I'll explain everything when I meet you in Transporter Room Three in five minutes. I just have to go pick up Jaan."  
  
"Wes, I think you should know," Robin stopped walking and put a hand on his arm to stop him. "This creature thing, the one that's been impersonating people--"  
  
"How did you know about that?"  
  
"I just encountered it, not fifteen minutes ago."  
  
"Who did it look like?"  
  
"Well... Doctor Crusher."  
  
"My mom? But I thought it could only imitate dead people. Oh my god..." Wes smacked his comm badge, "Computer, locate Doc--"  
  
"I did that, Wes. She's fine and in sickbay."  
  
Wes sighed with tremendous relief. "Cancel," he said into the air. "Then I guess it can imitate living people too."  
  
"I guess so."  
  
"Where did you see her?"  
  
"Just outside Engineering, in the corridor. She fainted and I caught her. Then she just... disappeared."  
  
"That's where I saw her. Then, it wasn't her I was talking to, it was the creature."  
  
"I just thought you should know, in case it would change anything important."  
  
"Well, now I'm not mad at her anymore. She was being really unreasonable about not wanting me to go. Which-- which is strange, considering the creature does want me to go."  
  
"Reverse psychology?"  
  
"Yeah, maybe. But why would it feel that was necessary when Captain Picard has already ordered me to go over there?"  
  
Robin shrugged. "Maybe it doesn't understand what Starfleet orders mean."  
  
Wes was completely puzzled. But he didn't have time to think about it. He had seven minutes left to get his away team to the transporter room. 


	16. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter 15  
  
Picard boarded the turbolift that would take him, at length, to the bridge. He had not traveled two decks when the turbolift stopped and the doors opened. Guinan was standing outside them. Picard smiled.  
  
"Jean-Luc," she nodded to him, but she was obviously a little distracted. "I'm glad I caught up with you."  
  
"Well, I'm on somewhat of a deadline, Guinan," Picard paused to tell the turbolift to continue to the bridge, "so you'll have to come to my stop first."  
  
Guinan made no clever remark, no effort to smile at him. She just nodded and boarded the lift. Picard began to really worry. "Captain," she very rarely called him that, "whenever Q comes aboard this ship, I can feel it. It's a sort of sensation, or reaction, like an allergy."  
  
Picard almost laughed at that. Almost.  
  
"And now, I'm feeling something similar. It's not Q. I would know him. But for the past forty-eight hours, I've felt it at least six times. Something has entered and left this ship. But I don't know what."  
  
"Guinan," Picard sensed a possible clue, "on at least six occasions, there has been a creature aboard this ship which can take on the forms of both living and deceased persons. When was the most recent time you sensed this presence?"  
  
"I sense it now."  
  
"Yes, well, our creature seems to have chosen myself for its most recent subject, and I must get to the bridge before it gives orders to my crew." The turbolift opened onto the bridge. "Please let me know immediately if you sense any change, any presence, departure, any disturbance, anything you think to be out of the ordinary." He stepped out of the lift.  
  
"Yes, Captain." Guinan was a civilian. A bartender. A Listener. She did not have to take orders from the captain, but she had done in the past, and she would do again, for the good of the ship.  
  
* * *  
  
The creature had tried this stunt before as deceased beings, but never as ones who live. Apparently, becoming living beings was taking its toll on the creature. However, he now had no other course. He had become too many people, and now, the Humans wanted to bring together two of the people he'd imitated: Jaan and Picard. Mercifully, at least one of them was dead.  
  
Jaan, Geordi, Robin and Wes all stood in Transporter Room Three waiting for Captain Picard. The three Humans were so busy conversing that they did not notice the slight strain on Jaan's face. Jaan's forehead creased and he closed his eyes. He appeared close to fainting when he suddenly opened his eyes and recovered.  
  
Picard entered the room. The creature fought off a strong feeling of self-satisfaction.  
  
"Mister Crusher, Mister LaForge, Mister Wallace," Picard addressed the two young men and one young woman in Starfleet uniforms, "and Jaan," the creature smiled as warmly as he suspected Picard could manage. "It is very good to see you again."  
  
"Thank you, sir," the creature smiled back at itself.  
  
"I must warn you all, the creature has made another appearance. However, it is my belief that once it realizes we are acceding it its wishes, it will stop haunting us. Mister Wallace, I trust you've been briefed on the situation?"  
  
"Yes, sir," the young woman answered. She was a little more solemn than usual and Wes noticed that.  
  
Wes was looking his team over. He was feeling very young again. He was eighteen and knew that was an age the children considered acceptable for a delegate. Robin was a bit too old at twenty-one, but could probably get away with it. Geordi was pushing it at twenty-five. Jaan was in his early forties, but that was adolescence for a Selelvian.  
  
The creature already planned how he would do away with the Human wearing the prosthetic device over his eyes. But Kaelha had found a use for both younger Humans. And of course, Jaan would disappear right after transport. An explanation for that would not be necessary, Kaelha would tell the two young Humans the truth once she had them aboard her ship. There was no reason not to. They couldn't escape. And there would be security to fire a phaser at the older Human male as soon as they materialized aboard the Neverland.  
  
"It appears the creature now has the ability to imitate living persons, and is masquerading about as myself," the creature knew full well that he was directly quoting the real captain, "so we must work quickly before it confuses things even more. Lieutenant?"  
  
"Aye, sir," the transporter operator began punching in all the necessary information for transport.  
  
* * *  
  
The turbolift door opened onto the bridge and Picard strode out, leaving Guinan to travel the rest of her trip alone. Riker was a little apprehensive about this Picard.  
  
"It's me, Number One," Picard sensed it right away, "Did another me appear yet?"  
  
"Just you, sir," Riker was still a little unsure. He decided to reassure himself. "Computer, locate Captain Jean-Luc Picard."  
  
"Captain Picard is on the bridge."  
  
Riker sighed with relief.  
  
"Sir," Worf rumbled, "Ensign Wallace reports having seen Doctor Crusher disappear from a corridor. It could have been the creature."  
  
"Indeed. It could be running about the entire ship, giving out orders to God knows who--" the captain's eyes seemed to turn inward for a moment, "--like Ensign Crusher," he said softly.  
  
"Computer," he practically shouted in contrast to his whispered thought, "locate Ensign Wesley Crusher."  
  
"Ensign Wesley Crusher is in Transporter Room Three."  
  
Oh no. This was exactly what Picard had feared. Wesley thought he was getting direct orders from his captain.  
  
"Mister Worf, shut down all transporter functions."  
  
"Not responding, sir, they're locked out by your voice command."  
  
"This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard," he called, "access transporter functions."  
  
The computer voice replied, "Access denied. Captain Jean-Luc Picard has denied access to all transporter functions for a designated time."  
  
"Damn! Transporter Room Three," he shouted into the air, "you do not have permission to transport! Repeat, you do not have permission to transport!" Although if another Picard was in the transporter room with them, he doubted the order he just gave would be followed.  
  
Then Picard turned to the aft section of the bridge, "Mister Worf, take a security team and get down there."  
  
The Klingon did not take the time to respond, but was off the bridge before the captain could give his next order.  
  
"He'll never make it in time," Riker intoned to Picard. Picard appeared to disregard that.  
  
"Transporter Room Two, report," Picard called.  
  
"No problems, no activity, Captain," Chief O'Brien answered from his post in Transporter Room Two.  
  
"Chief O'Brien, this is an emergency. Do you have full access to transporter functions?"  
  
This was a very strange question to ask of the Transporter Chief. "Wh-- of course I do, sir."  
  
"Test them, please, Mister O'Brien. They have been tampered with."  
  
There was a momentary pause as Chief O'Brien ran a quick diagnostic. "Aye, Captain, I have full access, but it looks as if you don't ha--"  
  
The captain interrupted, "I need you to locate the coordinates to which Transporter Room Three is about to transport. Then I need you to direct-beam Commander Riker and myself from our current location on the bridge to Transporter Room Three's destination at exactly the same time as the away team in Three transports. Understood?"  
  
"Aye, sir," came the light Irish brogue in response. "Destination found... entered. Ready when you are, Captain."  
  
"Good. Lock onto Commander Riker's and my coordinates."  
  
Riker strode over to stand next to Picard in the center of the bridge. He didn't have time to argue with Picard about how a captain should never go along on a dangerous away team mission. Besides, he didn't know what the captain was planning except to assume that bringing together the real Picard and the impostor would clear any doubt in Wes's, Geordi's and Robin's minds.  
  
"Locked, sir."  
  
"Energize when they do, Chief."  
  
"Aye, sir. They're sequencing, and... Energize!"  
  
The two highest ranking officers on the ship disappeared in a sparkling blur of light.  
  
* * *  
  
Wesley, Geordi, Robin and Jaan stood on the platform trying to decipher the strange message they had just heard over the commlink that sounded like it had come from Captain Picard. A voice just like that of the man standing before them had told them they did not have permission to transport.  
  
"No time to lose, Lieutenant," the false Picard walked over to the transporter console, "prepare to transport before the creature can disrupt us."  
  
"Aye, sir." The transporter operator pressed a few spaces on the console, then looked up, "Ready, sir."  
  
"Energize."  
  
The transporter operator touched the thumb and index finger of his right hand to the sequence initiators and slid them up. Just as the beams of the transporter began surrounding the three young Humans on the platform, the form of Jaan disappeared completely. The operator looked surprised.  
  
"Captain, what just happ--" he turned to the "captain", but he was gone as well. "What the--?"  
  
And the transporter operator was alone.  
  
Just then, Worf and three security officers burst through the transporter room doors to find the operator alone.  
  
"What happened?" Worf asked. The operator looked like he'd just seen a ghost... which, in essence, he had.  
  
"That's what I'd like to know, sir. The captain was here. He ordered an away team to transport over to the Neverland. Lieutenant LaForge, Ensigns Crusher and Wallace, and a Selelvian. Now they're all gone, the captain disappeared from standing right next to me!"  
  
"The captain was on the bridge with me," Worf began.  
  
The commlink interrupted with Data's voice, "Mister Worf, those transported to the Neverland will be returning in Transporter Room Two."  
  
"Yes, sir," Worf answered and ran from the room, leaving the transporter lieutenant in complete confusion.  
  
* * *  
  
Chief O'Brien had successfully transported two officers to the place where three officers and a civilian were to be transported on the Neverland. However, his console showed that only three persons had been transported from Room Three. There should have been four from Room Three and two from the bridge, a total of six. Only five ended up on the Neverland. What had happened? They couldn't have lost one. That almost never happens at all, and had certainly never happened to him.  
  
Chief O'Brien felt a cold chill of dread as he considered the possibility that they may have just killed a person. 


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter 16  
  
Captain Kaelha and Commander Briyen were waiting with a security team in the transporter room of the Neverland as three expected visitors and two unexpected ones materialized on their transporter platform. As soon as Picard was fully put back together again, he tapped his insignia.  
  
"Picard to Enterprise, five to transport, energize!"  
  
Geordi, Wesley and Robin turned around, stunned to hear their captain's voice from behind them.  
  
"Hold your fire!" Kaelha shouted at the boy aiming a phaser at Geordi. Geordi's jaw dropped as he saw the weapon aimed at him. He had almost just been executed with a disrupter! The children were obviously surprised by the appearance of the captain and first officer of the Enterprise. They were not prepared to commit an act of war before them.  
  
However, the children of the Neverland had an advantage over the Starfleet away team: they'd had time to think during the two seconds it took for the transporter to put the Humans back together.  
  
As soon as Picard finished ordering the Enterprise to energize, Briyen and the Neverland head of security leapt up onto the transporter pad, grabbed Wes and Robin, tore off their communicator badges and hurled the two Humans to the floor away from the transporter pad.  
  
Five people bearing Starfleet communicator badges were transported back to the Enterprise.  
  
Kaelha turned to the two young ensigns bringing themselves to sitting positions on her floor, shaking their heads to clear them, trying to piece together what had happened to them.  
  
Kaelha smiled, "It seems I've stolen two young Starfleet officers."  
  
* * *  
  
On board the Enterprise, when the away team materialized on the transporter platform in Room Two, Worf and his team immediately pounced on the two Neverland officers. One of them Worf recognized as Briyen, the first officer. The other was a slightly older child, possibly seventeen, a boy of somewhat larger size, probably security. As a matter of fact, he was wearing the Starfleet "security mustard" color. Come to think of it, Picard had noticed on the viewscreen of the bridge and in the transporter room on the Neverland "security mustard", "command red", "medical blue" and "engineering yellow", although on antique-style uniforms.  
  
As Briyen was grabbed, he dropped Robin's communicator pin and it clinked to he floor. That brought realization to Picard that Wesley and Robin had not returned with them.  
  
With a look of cold defiance, the child security officer also flung Wes's pin to the floor.  
  
"Picard to bridge," Picard acted as quickly as he could to keep hold of the children as bargaining chips, "raise sh--"  
  
The children disappeared in a hum of transporter energy and shimmer of light.  
  
Worf staggered with suddenly no one to restrain. Picard cursed.  
  
"Send us back over there, Chief," Picard said, still on the pad from being transported back.  
  
O'Brien shook his head. "They've raised shields, sir."  
  
"Damn it!"  
  
Now all that was left of Wesley Crusher and Robin Wallace were their communicators. Without those, there was little hope of Starfleet ever being able to find them.  
  
* * *  
  
Beverly Crusher had heard via Deanna Troi that her son had been selected for an away team mission. Orders are orders, but this mission could be potentially dangerous, and she wasn't going to let her son leave without at least being there when he left. Perhaps she could even convince the captain to send her too.  
  
"Computer, locate Ensign Wesley Crusher."  
  
"Ensign Wesley Crusher is in Transporter Room Three."  
  
Beverly was at the transporter room door within a minute. The doors slid open obediently, but the only person inside was the lieutenant on duty.  
  
"Oh, no," Beverly said when she saw the man, "they've gone already?"  
  
"No," the lieutenant answered, "they're in Two."  
  
"Oh," Beverly was confused. Why would they suddenly switch transporter rooms?  
  
She walked to the next door and entered the room. She saw many people in that room, Riker, O'Brien, Worf and a swarm of security, Geordi and Picard, who was kneeling on the floor studying something in both his palms.  
  
But no Wes, no Robin. Oh, dear God, where's Wesley?  
  
Picard stood and walked through the crowd of people in the tiny transporter room toward Beverly.  
  
No. Please, no, I know that look in his eyes, she thought as her heart broke.  
  
"Captain..." she shook her head in confusion, unable to continue.  
  
Picard held out his hands, showing her their contents: two Starfleet communicator badges. "Your son's and Robin Wallace's. Two children from the Neverland traded places with them."  
  
"I don't understand," Beverly whispered.  
  
"Beverly," Picard's voice was warm and compassionate, "meet me in my ready room in ten minutes. I'd prefer to explain this to you in private."  
  
Beverly nodded. All the officers in the room began to file out. Picard took a moment to turn and look at Beverly, whose back was to him. She was staring at the transporter platform. He had given her an order to report to his ready room, but he would wait for her as if it had been a request. It was now too often that he had to tell her of a family member who was likely lost. He turned and walked out.  
  
Beverly could not draw herself away from the transporter. Her instinct wanted her to leap onto the platform and transport over to the ship and fight every person she had to until she found her son, but there was little doubt in her mind that the Neverland had raised shields and was most likely leaving. Without their communicators, how could her son and Robin ever be recovered? Her mind was silent for a moment and she listened to the faint reassurance from her heart that her son was not helpless and could be working toward his own escape as well. After the coming of the realization that she could get no more information standing here, she turned and left the room, headed for the bridge to meet with her captain.  
  
* * *  
  
Once all the members of the crew had taken their respective seats on the bridge, Picard began his orders. Geordi had taken Wesley's place at Conn.  
  
"Mister LaForge, follow them. Don't let us fall behind. Mister Data, scan the Neverland for Human life forms matching Ensign Crusher and Ensign Wallace. Try everything you can think of to penetrate their shields. Mister Worf, hail them until they answer."  
  
"Should we fire warning shots, sir?" Riker asked.  
  
"Useless," Picard answered, "they know we wouldn't do serious damage to their ship with our officers aboard."  
  
Beverly Crusher stood near the turbolift doors, almost as if she were not permitted on the bridge. In actuality, the ship's C.M.O. was the only officer on a starship who can, on his sole word, override the captain's orders if he believes the captain medically unsound. But Beverly waited, feeling not so much like Chief Medical Officer Beverly Crusher of Federation flagship U.S.S. Enterprise, but instead like wife of Jack Crusher, mother of Wesley Crusher, an outsider in a terrifying and dangerous world which claimed her loved ones on a basis of regularity.  
  
"I'll be in my ready room," Picard finished and walked toward the doors. He caught Beverly's eye and stopped walking. She moved towards him and preceded him into his office.  
  
She sat on the couch and, instead of sitting behind his desk, he sat next to her on the couch. He did not take her hand or otherwise try to comfort her in any physical way. He was both friend and captain and would have to find a middle ground.  
  
He was not looking forward to explaining how her son had been lost, perhaps forever. 


	18. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter 17  
  
"Chief," Kaelha turned to the transporter operator next to her, "get them back here."  
  
"Aye, captain," the chief, a boy of about 14, set his hands to flying over the console. Within seconds, Briyen and the security officer were back.  
  
"Bridge, shields on full, now!" Kaelha called into the air, "Helm, get us out of here, slowly. Impulse."  
  
Wesley concentrated on the girl standing over him trying to overcome the slight disorientation one experiences for the first few seconds after being transported doubled by the unexpected turn events had taken. What happened?  
  
He sensed someone on the floor next to him, stirring slowly. He looked over. It was Robin. And they were not on the Enterprise. He stood slowly, blinking, then reached out to Robin. She took his hand and stood, looking just as confused as he was. Then Wesley saw Kaelha. Slowly, he was getting angry.  
  
"What are we doing here?" he demanded.  
  
"You wanted to come," Kaelha said with mock innocence.  
  
"We were ordered to come," Robin corrected.  
  
"Whatever," Kaelha waved her hand dismissively. "Regardless, our conditions were just the boy, no girl, and no Chief Engineer."  
  
Wes stepped protectively in front of Robin, "You have no right to--"  
  
"You gave me the right," Kaelha interrupted, suddenly angry too. "I asked you to come as delegate and you did. But you brought others with you and you attempted to leave before you performed your duties as a delegation. You violated our trust and I could not permit it to continue."  
  
Wesley was not aware that the creature had imitated Picard or Jaan or his mother. However, he had his orders to be a delegate, she had a point there. But what happened to the rest of his team?  
  
"Where's Jaan? And Geordi? There were two other delegates."  
  
"The deal was you and you alone, Crusher," Kaelha smiled. "They went back to their ship and left you here with your girlfriend. Your captain and commander came over with you to try to take you back. But we're not finished yet. By all rights, I should have killed them. Violation of agreements made during a negotiation is an act of war."  
  
"The captain beamed over?" Robin scrunched up her eyebrows. "Impossible. I saw him standing away from the transporter on the Enterprise when we..." Robin was beginning to grasp what had happened. Wes had just gotten the idea too. That wasn't their captain.  
  
Instinctively, Wesley reached for his communicator badge, but ended up hitting himself in the chest. His insignia was gone. He glanced over at Robin, who was staring down, bewildered, at the empty space on her uniform that she had just smacked as well. Her eyes widened.  
  
"We... removed them. Just in case you were going to leave before we reached an agreement," Kaelha volunteered.  
  
"This is kidnapping!" Robin shouted. Wes, still half a step in front of her, gestured subtly with his hand at his side for her not to get upset. Robin fell silent. Wes must have a plan. He had almost been expecting to be kidnapped. She had not.  
  
"All right, fine," he conceded to Kaelha. "We'll need a meeting with your highest ranking officers as soon as they can be assembled. We'll need dataclips and recording devices with no link to either your computer system or ours. Ensign Wallace and I need an open commlink to the Enterprise at all times, which means either we'll need our communicators back or free and constant use of one of your commlinks, which you are of course free to monitor as you see fit. If you wish, you can keep shields raised in order to prevent us from beaming more people over or back. Beyond that, we'll need to have a const--"  
  
"Enough!" Kaelha silenced him. "You are in a poor position to be making demands!"  
  
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Wes said dryly. "Those aren't demands, they're necessities for negotiations. But we're not delegates, are we? We're prisoners."  
  
"Certainly not," Kaelha sounded insulted.  
  
"Then we need to prepare for negotiations."  
  
"That can wait," Kaelha turned and strode towards the far side of the room. "You are all dismissed," she called to her crew. "Dalev, take the girl to her... quarters."  
  
"No!" Wes grabbed Robin's arm as Dalev, a large young man about Wesley's age, approached her. "I will not enter into any talks without a Second."  
  
"That very well may be, ensign," Kaelha stared at Wes, "but you are not about to enter into talks just now. Dalev, carry out my orders. Ensign," she addressed Wesley, "you will be shown to your quarters shortly." Dalev began to bodily drag Robin from the room.  
  
"Wes!" she was a little panicked.  
  
Wes tried to pry Dalev's iron fingers from Robin's arms. There was no way he could allow them to be separated. They might be lost forever if that happened. He hauled back his fist to throw a powerful punch when he was suddenly pulled backward by both elbows.  
  
Robin was dragged from the room. Wesley yanked his arms away from Kaelha and the transporter chief and ran towards the doors that had just slid shut. He had to fling out his arms to prevent himself from smashing into the doors and breaking his nose. He pushed himself away from the doors and spun around in ferociously controlled rage to confront Kaelha.  
  
"You really must gain command of yourself, ensign, or it might be held against you in negotiations," Kaelha shook her head. "Such anger, such destructive behavior. What a horrid race you Humans are turning out to be."  
  
"Where are you taking her?" Wes shouted.  
  
Kaelha rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue. "To her quarters!"  
  
"Where is that? I need to be able to find her. She's my Second. I'll need to prepare with her."  
  
"I'm afraid that won't be allowed," Kaelha wasn't fooling anyone with her regretful look.  
  
"What do you mean? When can I see her?"  
  
"You can't."  
  
Wes got a sudden feeling of dread. His fears were confirmed. This was all one great big setup. He knew it, Kaelha knew it, and now he had brought Robin into it with him. There were to be no negotiations, he knew this even though he hadn't been able to get Kaelha to divulge it yet. His voice was very small when he finally asked, "Why not?"  
  
Kaelha smiled and looked at the floor, but did not answer.  
  
"If you hurt her..."  
  
Kaelha watched him for a long moment, then laughed derisively. "I was interested to see how you'd finish that statement, ensign. And now I see you can't. You cannot threaten me. You race entire is no threat to me."  
  
Wes simmered for just a moment. He wasn't prepared to complete his previous statement, didn't expect to have been given the chance. He wanted Kaelha to become angry, to divulge her plan, to slip up. It wasn't working. She was in control of her emotions with a level of maturity unheard of in someone her age, displaying them and hiding them, true and false, at will. Wes couldn't decide whether to fight his way through or think his way out. Wesley's brain was greater than his brawn (Wesley's brain was greater than Worf's brawn), so he decided on the latter. He didn't anticipate being able to furiously tear his way through an army of children while finding Robin and safely returning both of them to their ship through two sets of shields without communicators. But he just might be able to carefully undermine the children. He just needed time to think. And he had a feeling he would get plenty of it. 


	19. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter 18  
  
"Sir," Worf announced as Captain Picard and Doctor Crusher emerged from the ready room, "I have raised the Neverland. They are responding."  
  
"On screen," Picard stood before his captain's chair. Beverly slowly walked to the turbolift and was gone by the time Picard's order was obeyed. Deanna watched her go. She knew her friend was going to lie down for a while and think. Then, Deanna would go to her. When Beverly was ready to talk.  
  
The nervous visage of Briyen appeared on the screen, looking as if he didn't quite know how to operate the communications link without Kaelha. And indeed, Kaelha wasn't there.  
  
Picard collected himself for a second, then addressed the boy, "Commander Briyen, you have knowingly and willingly abducted two members of my crew. That is considered a hostile act, an act of war. Do you understand that?"  
  
"Of course! I'm not stupid."  
  
Riker bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood. His overwhelming urge to disagree with the boy could only be thwarted with physical pain.  
  
"Go away!" the boy shouted. "You keep hailing us and chasing us. You lost, don't you get it? Now is when you go and lick your wounds and find another boy genius and girl Rambo to fill their places. Humans are replaceable, right? Go find a Hu-Man replacement!"  
  
Somewhere in the back of Deanna's mind, it registered that "Hu-Man" was the Ferengi's derogatory pronunciation of the term for the race of beings from Earth, and also a Ferengi belief that Humans are replaceable. Strange.  
  
"Commander, I will not 'go away' until my officers are returned to me," Picard's voice was rising dangerously near to a resonant bellow. "And if they are not returned immediately, I will have the whole of the Federation upon you in moments." Frightening children seemed to come easily to the captain.  
  
The boy was silent for a moment. He had not expected to be attacked by the entire UFP. The Enterprise they could handle, but dozens of starships? He would have to talk to Kaelha, convince her to abandon this ridiculous and inconceivable plan, talk her into returning the Humans.  
  
Picard was growing impatient with the boy's inaction. "Let me speak with your captain," he sighed.  
  
Big mistake. Adolescents do not like it when adults "pull rank" on them.  
  
Briyen glared hard at the screen. "No, Jean-Luc. You'll have to simmer a while longer. Briyen out."  
  
"Damn it!" Riker hissed.  
  
"There must be some way to find out what's been done with Mister Crusher and Mister Wallace," Picard stated, racking his own brain for some possible option they hadn't already considered and/or tried. "Mister Worf, keep trying to contact the Neverland and tell me as soon as you succeed."  
  
Tight-lipped and holding his breath, Picard turned stiffly on his heel and marched back to his ready room. He hated children.  
  
* * *  
  
Robin struggled and twisted and yanked, but she was out-muscled. The Monster Boy was dragging her through corridors that looked strikingly like Federation Standard, and past doors that were labeled in a familiar, if antique, manner.  
  
Monster Boy had been dragging her for a good four minutes (which is a long time when someone has a vice grip around one's upper arm) through hallways and down one turbolift so far. The ship was huge. He stopped abruptly in front of another turbolift, waiting for it to appear.  
  
"Hey, uh... Dalev," Robin said, suddenly remembering his name, "where are we going?"  
  
Dalev looked extremely inconvenienced and highly irritated, "To your quarters!"  
  
Ooh, it talks. "No one can get past that, can they? Where are my quarters? Are they going to be near Wesley's? Why are you manhandling me? Am I free to roam the ship or are you going to lock me in? Or are my 'quarters' the brig?"  
  
"Hmph! Too many questions," the boy narrowed his eyes, but did not look at her. He was head and shoulders taller than she. She stared at him in utter disbelief, then groaned.  
  
"Wonderful. I get the dumbest kid on the ship as tour guide." Oops... shouldn't've said that...  
  
The boy turned and hurled her against the opposite wall of the corridor. Her back slammed against the bulkhead and she lost her breath. She managed not to fall, charged back towards Dalev.  
  
Technically, he started this by kidnapping me, she thought as she aimed a high roundhouse kick to his ear.  
  
He blocked her kick easily. But she did not put her foot down after the first kick. She simply bent her knee all the way back so that her heel almost touched her hip, and snapped a second kick. He blocked again. Now he was sure she would have to put her foot down. He lowered his guard to block her next move, doubtless a punch so that she could regain her balance. He was wrong.  
  
Robin snapped a third kick and connected the top of her foot to the side of his face with a resounding thump.  
  
Dalev reeled. Robin lost her balance and stumbled backward, landing in a low punching crouch. She dropped to sweep his legs, but it was as if she had kicked a banister. His feet went nowhere. She had not dazed him enough to take him down.  
  
Dalev aimed a snap kick at her chin, and connected. Her head whipped back and she hit the floor. It was almost possible to feel her fury in the air like heat as she spat blood onto the floor.  
  
She was down only for a second. She remembered her defense class from just yesterday and decided to lure a punch. She took on the fighting position and opened her guard ever so slightly, careful not to make it look intentional. Dalev took the bait.  
  
Middle punch, right hand, to her solar plexus. A perfect setup, but he never connected. She sidestepped, grabbed his arm, turned, and yanked him over her shoulder as hard as she could. The crown of his head rammed into the bulkhead and he crumpled to the floor. He groaned and stirred.  
  
Robin dashed around a corner and kept running.  
  
* * *  
  
"How am I supposed to prepare to deal with you if I'm not allowed to see my Second?" Wes was practically frantic, trying to force logic into play in the argument. Either that or have her give up the lie. He wasn't succeeding either way.  
  
"If I were to allow you to confer with your girlfriend, you would doubtless conspire your release and our defeat. That is unacceptable. We will conduct these negotiations according to the book, and I can assure you that conspiracy is not in the regulations."  
  
"There's no conspiracy, and no rule that states associates must be kept apart!"  
  
"And no rule that they must be kept together, either."  
  
And Briyen chose that moment to rush in and gesture Kaelha over to him. She strode towards him and he whispered to her. Wes strained to overhear, and he could piece together what was happening from the few words he caught. The Enterprise had of course warned them that the abduction of Starfleet officers is an act of war.  
  
Kaelha suddenly raised her right hand across her left shoulder, threatening to strike Briyen across the face. Briyen flinched ever so slightly and raised an arm to block her hand. She didn't hit him. She whispered something to him that Wes couldn't make out, but he could tell from her movements that she was reprimanding the boy. Then Briyen left and Kaelha turned her attention back to her 'diplomat'.  
  
Wesley stood silent for a moment. "You have no intention of negotiating with us at all, do you? We are your captives, and you are escaping with us. I heard you order Helm to take us out of here. Slowly, but we're still leaving. How far are we from the Enterprise now, Captain Kaelha? Are they pursuing us? This whole thing is a facade, and I want to know why you even bothered."  
  
Now it was Kaelha's turn to be left speechless. Young Humans were smarter than she had assumed.  
  
"We need you here, ensign," Kaelha decided to confess, even if just a little. "No doubt you know your value to the Federation. You cannot claim to possess any less than exceptional abilities in certain areas, areas in which we could use some help."  
  
"Part of Starfleet's Prime Directive is never to offer our knowledge or technology to races that have not achieved our level of development yet."  
  
"Don't patronize me, boy, we're far beyond your level of technological development. It's not your technological know-how we need, in particular. I'm prepared to offer you any position you desire, and you have no need to go through any kind of academy to earn your place. You will be treated with the utmost respect and consideration, much better than you would ever have been treated by the Federation. And I am willing to consider any conditions you name."  
  
Wesley was stunned. "I... I have no conditions... and... and nothing to offer you. I'm a Starfleet officer and--"  
  
"Yes, yes, I'm tiring of you saying that. 'I'm a Starfleet officer, I'm a Starfleet officer'," Kaelha imitated him, "and with such bravado, puffing your chest out and holding your head up. Please. This will put an end to that: you have no choice. Frankly. You're not with Starfleet now, and I have no intention of returning you. We need you here."  
  
"What for?" Wes narrowed his eyes and crinkled his nose in disgust.  
  
"What is your area of expertise, Mister Crusher?"  
  
"I don't have one. I haven't been through the Academy yet."  
  
"Let me put it another way. What is it, ensign, that you do well?"  
  
"Nothing," he cocked an eyebrow, daring her to disagree. She did.  
  
"I hear you're a prodigy in Engineering, ensign, even beyond your own race's current knowledge. You wouldn't lie to me, would you, ensign?"  
  
"Why would I lie to someone who's shown nothing but exemplary integrity towards me?" the sarcasm in Wes' voice was reiterated by the expression on his face.  
  
Kaelha raised her hand to strike Wes as she had done to Briyen, but she didn't stop herself. Wes caught her wrist easily and clenched his fingers tightly around it.  
  
"What is wrong with you?" Wes shook his head. Kaelha tugged at her wrist, but Wes didn't release it. "This won't forward negotiations, or have you just given up that joke entirely?"  
  
Kaelha jerked her arm away from him angrily, but with a single breath, her anger was replaced with cool distance again.  
  
"We return to the question of your position on my ship, ensign. You don't need to tell me where your talents lie, since in fact, you may not know yourself. I will tell you. You have the power to create temporal anomalies with your mind."  
  
Wes stood silent for a moment, then burst out laughing. "A time machine right inside my head? Oh, that's rich! And to think my race has been working on a way to control time for centuries, and all along I had only to think about a rip in the space-time continuum! That's very funny."  
  
Kaelha ignored the bout of mirth from her captive and waited for him to regain his composure. "You can, you have, and you will do so again. For me."  
  
"Kaelha, even if I wanted to help you, which I certainly don't, I couldn't. I can't travel through time unaided. I can't create temporal anomalies, and certainly not stable, pre-determined destinations. I can't do anything with my mind except think. I'm sorry if you thought I could do this, but you've been misinformed. You kidnapped the wrong guy."  
  
"I am not misinformed! You can, have, and shall again manipulate warp fields with your mind!"  
  
"I have never manipulated warp--"  
  
"What about when you saved your mother from your collapsing warp bubble?"  
  
"That wasn't me, it was-- h-how did you--?"  
  
"The Traveler. Yes. I know about him. It wasn't him who saved your mother, ensign, it was you. You pulled her time to yours and opened a doorway between the two times. And that is exactly what we need you to do: to create a gateway to the past."  
  
"I can't! I didn't do it before! The Traveler did it! He just needed me there because he was weak and injured, and because I'm her son!"  
  
"That's not the truth, ensign. The Traveler may have guided you, strengthened you, but it was you who did the work. We have someone here who may be able to fill that role for you. Wesley, we're not asking you to succeed, just to try."  
  
Wes sighed. "Look. When my mother was trapped, the Traveler offered to help me save her life. We barely managed, and I almost passed out from the strain, even with someone there who can do what you need. I don't know who set up the stable bridge, if you can even call it 'stable'. I don't know if I can do it again, I don't know how to find where you want to go. All I was thinking about when I did it before was how to avoid being responsible for my mother's death. I wanted her back, and I got her back. That's it. If I tried this for you, you could be lost forever, and I would be powerless to save you."  
  
"That is a risk we are all more than willing to take, ensign."  
  
"I don't care!"  
  
"Will you at least try?"  
  
"No! Absolutely not! I've been brought here under false pretenses, held against my will, and now you want me to help you! When a ship wants the assistance of the Enterprise, they ask for it. If you return us now, Captain Picard would probably be able to--"  
  
"Captain Picard is a fool and an ignoramus. All Humans are. I don't know what happened to you that you escaped that fate, but it is the only reason why we have not yet killed you and everyone aboard the Enterprise."  
  
Wes took a moment to think about the far-reaching implications of that statement. The weight of over a thousand lives hung on every one of his actions. He should start being more careful.  
  
"Well, I obviously can't assign you to Engineering, that would be the same as setting you free. For now, Briyen will take you to quarters until we figure out what to do with you. You will remain in quarters until we contact you."  
  
If there was one thing Wes Crusher hated, it was being locked up. However, for now, it was better to just go along with them until he could formulate an escape plan. "I don't suppose I'll have a choice," Wes bit off the words.  
  
"No, you won't." Kaelha tapped her communicator and summoned Briyen to the room again. Briyen was there in a moment, giving Kaelha a wide berth. She coldly instructed him to escort Wesley to quarters. Wes wondered why she felt it was necessary to guard him only with Briyen, an obviously smaller boy, when she had assigned a monstrously huge boy to guard Robin. She probably had assumed he wouldn't try to escape without Robin.  
  
"How does Robin figure into this? What do you need her for?" Wes asked as Briyen waited for him to come quietly.  
  
"Well, for strength, as an aid to you, for one," Kaelha smiled and gestured for Briyen to take Wesley. Briyen took Wes's arm and began to lead him to the doors. Wes complied, but still watched Kaelha over his shoulder. When Wes and Briyen were out the door, she continued.  
  
"And in case you were difficult to convince," she grinned and the doors swooshed shut between them.  
  
Wes halted outside the transporter room and stared hard at the doors. Great. I get myself kidnapped and bring along my girlfriend so they can torture her until I cooperate. Bring on the Academy Psych Test!  
  
Sighing a futile sigh, he turned and followed Briyen down the corridor. Briyen hadn't stopped to wait for the Starfleet ensign to follow, so Wesley was trailing a bit behind. Wes was about seven inches taller than Briyen and almost four years older. There was something different about Briyen, something almost... well, Human. Kaelha certainly didn't act like any sixteen-year-old Human he knew! She was far too intelligent, conniving, malicious and mature. She had all the characteristics of an adult Klingon female, and all the appearance of a young Humanoid woman.  
  
Wes wondered how much significance there was in Briyen's personality differences. He followed the boy in silence through the corridors for a while, then decided that he would talk to him. Maybe the careless Briyen would accidentally divulge useful information.  
  
"Hey, Briyen."  
  
The boy stopped and waited for Wes to catch up.  
  
"What do you want?" Briyen then continued walking, looking ahead. His voice was a little resentful.  
  
"Just wanted to talk," Wesley tried to sound injured by Briyen's cold tone. "Mind if I ask you a question?"  
  
Briyen considered. "No. I don't mind."  
  
"I would love to be second in command of the Enterprise. How did you get to be First Officer so young?"  
  
Briyen thought for a long time. Without changing his stone facial expression or looking towards Wes, he answered, "Friendly with the captain."  
  
Wes smiled at that. "Yeah, that would do it. Is it fun?" Wes was trying not to talk down to him, and the attempt was made harder by the fact that Wes physically had to talk downwards to the shorter young man next to him.  
  
"Sort of," Briyen was talking more easily now, as if to an acquaintance. Wes had learned from experience that people considered him the trustworthy type, and he quickly gained confidences. "It's a really hard job, and I don't have any kind of training or anything."  
  
No training? To be second in command of a starcruiser? Then what the hell does he do?  
  
"Well, you learn by doing, right?"  
  
"It's hard," Briyen repeated, trying to keep himself from betraying anything. Wes got the distinct impression that Briyen didn't really enjoy his job.  
  
Wes proceeded carefully. "What do you like to do?"  
  
"What do you like to do?" Briyen looked up at him for the first time, a sideward glance and the ghost of a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.  
  
Wes thought this was a strange question since the children apparently already knew what he liked to do, as well as a few other things about him. He decided to answer anyway. Besides, he was beginning to get a good feeling about Briyen -- but he had no idea why. "I like Engineering."  
  
Briyen smiled and nodded, looking ahead again.  
  
"Engineering's your thing, too?"  
  
Briyen nodded again.  
  
"Well, I guess I'll have to talk with you about it sometime. We could compare notes. And I could tell you how the Enterprise works."  
  
Briyen smiled again. "I'd like that--" but he suddenly stopped talking and faced forward again, as if he just remembered that the young man walking beside him was his prisoner, and going out for coffee and conversation with his prisoner was probably not a good idea.  
  
They reached Wesley's quarters. Wes noted that they had not taken any turbolifts. His quarters were on the same deck as the transporter rooms. That could be important information for rescue. If his ship was able to attempt rescue.  
  
The doors hissed open upon Briyen's command and Wes stepped inside. He turned to say something pitiable about worrying about Robin, hopefully to get some hint of her whereabouts from Briyen, but the doors whooshed shut and he was alone in his room.  
  
The room was small with just a bed, a nightstand with a lamp, a bathroom, a closet without doors (there went the idea of a closet ambush), and no windows. No replicator, either. Wes hoped they didn't leave him alone without food for too long, he was skinny enough as it was.  
  
He was already bored. He sighed and flopped onto the bed, folding his arms under his head. The room was dimly lit, he assumed the lights were at one-half brilliance if that. He was exhausted from his very long day, and had nothing to do except wait for someone to come get him. What could it hurt if he rested a little? He couldn't replicate anything useful to his escape (he couldn't replicate anything at all), and now was not the opportune moment to attempt escape anyway. He couldn't get out of the room to find Robin, and he certainly couldn't access the computer. Besides, he was developing a severe headache.  
  
"Lights down," he called to the computer, almost subconsciously. The lights went out completely. Completely. Wes forgot that there were no windows in this room, hence no starlight at all, and he was in utter blackness. "Lights at one-quarter," he remedied.  
  
Then it registered. The computer was responding to his voice. Which meant that he was at least one step above prisoner status. He sat up.  
  
He tried the lights at full. They complied. He left them there. Then he tried room temperature and other atmospheric conditions. The temperature went up and down, slowly but obediently, with a soft whispering sound of tempered air being piped into the room. The humidity and purity of the air responded accordingly. He could even select music to be played, and control the volume. All right. Enough fooling around.  
  
"Computer, open doors."  
  
"Unable to comply. Proper security code required. Enter security code."  
  
Wes gritted his teeth. He should have just gone to sleep and ignored this "caged bird" feeling growing inside him. He had a frightening feeling that if they kept him locked in here too long he'd go mad and charge headlong into the doors. "Cancel."  
  
Wes tried accessing Main Engineering. He tried accessing the computer's library. He tried asking it all sorts of questions about the children and the ship he was on.  
  
"Unable to comply. Unable to comply. Unable to comply."  
  
Wes gave up. He stood in the center of the room with his hands balled into fists. Then he collapsed onto the bed again, letting all his air out in an futile sigh. He'd never really been locked up before without an immediate danger to himself to keep his mind occupied. There had always been something pressing, even life-threatening, to solve at the time. He'd never been just... detained. Confined to quarters. One single minute felt like ten.  
  
Soon, he no longer had to search for something to worry about to keep him on his toes. He was so worried about Robin that he could barely breathe. Wesley Crusher lay on the bed with his fingers laced behind his head, fear and dread paling his face. Where was Robin right now? What was his mother doing right now? 


	20. Chapter Nineteen

A/N: Yeesh. Long chapter of DOOOOOOOOOOOOOM... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter 19  
  
Beverly Crusher lay on her bed with her fingers laced behind her head, fear and dread paling her face. Where was Wesley right now?  
  
Picard's explanation had been frightening, and his words afterwards comforting, but none of these were facts. Wesley could be dead right now. Or he cold be lost forever, forced to live his life on another ship, far from those he knew and loved. And Picard was just short of notifying the next of kin of Robin Wallace that she was missing and possibly lost. She wished she could know what Wes was doing right now.  
  
She had seen the look Deanna had given her as she walked off the bridge. That look meant that she could expect Deanna as soon as her watch was over. She didn't know what Deanna thought she could do, nor did she think Deanna knew anything that anyone else didn't. But the presence of a friend would be comforting.  
  
I just now realized how tired I am, Beverly thought and let her eyelids flutter closed. Her room was in near-total darkness already, lit only by the starfield outside her window. She told herself that she wouldn't fall asleep.  
  
I'm not really off duty, after all. Only given... given a momentary break. There are people... people to be... be healed...  
  
Her eyelids slipped closed so slowly she hardly noticed that it had happened. She fell asleep, but her mind wouldn't stop. The conscious part of her mind kept planning and thinking, but the unconscious part was distorting her thoughts in a strange, drunken sort of way.  
  
The stars seemed to enter the room, spreading a starfield across every surface of her bedroom and spilling out the door onto the carpet of the frontroom. In her dream, she stood and faced the door. She could feel a gentle breeze through her loose hair and flowing nightgown as she entered the living room of her house. Sunlight ran in through the open windows at an almost horizontal angle. It was still very early in the morning. She could hear voices from the next room, one was the soft voice of her husband, the other the penetrating giggle of her infant son. The words were nonsense, cooing, babbling.  
  
She peered through the doorway of Wesley's bedroom and saw Jack kneeling at his cribside, his face pressed up against the white wooden bars, making faces at his baby son, who was laughing incessantly. Wesley was up on his knees and had his tiny fists wrapped around two of the bars, watching the little "performance".  
  
She smiled gently and tried not to make any noise that would cause this wonderful conversation to stop. Jack's back was to her, Wesley was facing her in his crib. Jack put his face up to the bars and made enthusiastic nonsense sounds at his 15-month-old son. Wesley leaned away from the bars, still clinging to them with his small fingers, and squealed with delight. Jack laughed. When Jack pulled away from the bars, Wesley would get near them again, an impish dare he knew his father would take. "Try to scare me again," the grin full of baby pearl teeth seemed to say. Then Wesley saw his mother. With the aid of the bars, he jumped to his feet and cried, "Mommy!"  
  
Jack turned around and blushed. He stood up and straightened the belt of his bathrobe, clearing his throat. Then he picked up Wesley. "We were, uh... I was just telling him what was new in the world this morning," he smiled.  
  
It was wonderful to see Jack in civilian clothes. It was wonderful to hear that baby voice. It was wonderful to feel the sun-warmed carpet under her bare feet, to feel the flower-scented breeze against her face, to hear birds and rustling leaves and insects. It was wonderful to be on Earth.  
  
Jack carried Wesley over to Beverly. He could still hold him in one arm, even though he was getting so big. Wes's hair was as dark as his father's, and as thick as his mother's. He rubbed his eyes with his little fists, already worn out from all that laughing, his few emerging teeth still showing through the fading smile.  
  
All the while, she knew it was a dream. She knew this was all long gone, that Jack was long gone, and that Wesley was grown, and quite possibly gone as well. But that didn't wake her. She preferred her dream to the pain, the loss, the fear. Her dream was so real...  
  
Jack handed their baby son to her. He smelled clean, like soap and baby powder, and he was warm and she could feel his weight in her arms and hear his soft breaths as he laid his head on her shoulder and wrapped his little arms around her neck. It was as if she were really holding her baby again. She could see Jack as clear as day. Recently, she hadn't been able to do that. Her image of Jack, her memory of his appearance had been fading slowly for nine years, and she was powerless to stop it. When she looked at a picture of him, she could remember him clearly, even the sound of his voice. But when she thought of him randomly, while working or walking down a corridor or lying in her bed staring at the ceiling, she could not conjure an image of his face like a ghost. But now, in her subconscious, in her dream, he was here again, as clear as a beautiful, warm, bright, sunny day...  
  
God, she hadn't dreamed about Jack in so long...  
  
She looked down at Wesley's big brown eyes, tiny nose and bow mouth. He looked so much like Jack. She looked up to make the comparison...  
  
...but Jack was gone.  
  
She heard a tiny sigh...  
  
...the sigh of a baby who'd just stopped crying.  
  
She looked down at Wesley...  
  
...and he was gone too.  
  
Suddenly the room was dark again. Dark and cold. The golden yellow warmth of the sun was replaced by the freezing blackness and cold silver starlight. Stars were everywhere, all throughout the room, on the walls, the ceiling and floor, floating through the air, threatening to crush her in the vacuum of space. She ran through her house...  
  
...her quarters...  
  
...on the Enterprise in space. In the middle of nowhere. There was a constant rushing sound, a whirring, roaring, blowing, airy sound that grew louder and louder...  
  
...and on top of it all there was a machinery sound... a clicking. No, beeping. No, a twinkling sound...  
  
...and the rushing and rushing sound of silence, of a giant universe that was a vacuum, closing in around her...  
  
...closing her world around her... creeping up on her from all sides... destroying everything she holds close to her... stripping her of everything she attempts to protect and to keep...  
  
...and leaving her all alone... alone...  
  
And then she was lying in her bed, in her quarters on the starship Enterprise, hearing her doorchime repeatedly.  
  
Oh, god, Deanna! I forgot! Beverly jumped out of bed still dressed in her uniform and shoes, and strode to the door of her bedroom, within shouting range of the main door.  
  
"Come in, Deanna, I'll be right out," she called, then ran back into her room to throw some cold water on her face, to try to clear the powerful dream images from her mind and think clearly. She pressed a soft towel to her face and took a deep breath, studying her face in the mirror, dragging herself back to the here and now. Then she started out to the frontroom.  
  
Jack was standing there.  
  
"Oh my god," Beverly stumbled backwards and turned to run into her room.  
  
"Beverly, wait," he called to her, starting after her.  
  
She pounded her fist against the "close" button and the "lock" button simultaneously. The doors swooshed closed and locked. Beverly backed away from the doors until the backs of her knees struck the bed and she half fell, half sat on it. She was fighting down panic.  
  
Jack walked through the doors as if they weren't there at all. Beverly gasped and jumped off the bed, backing around it to the other side of the room.  
  
"Go away!" she bellowed.  
  
Jack's face was sad, "Beverly, please. Please don't be afraid, please calm down. Please."  
  
She managed to calm her breathing, but kept backing away from him. She tapped her communicator. Nothing. Good lord, now she understood what Wesley must have been going through when the creature appeared to him as Lynn Costa. She had no one to send for help and no one would hear her voice if she screamed. She had to defeat this creature alone.  
  
"Beverly, please, I just want to talk to you, I just want to see you, to look at you, please," Jack plead with her, backing her into a corner.  
  
"You're not real!" she yelled right into its face. Beverly Crusher's voice never rose above a certain pitch, it was always low. And when she grew desperate it got even lower. Right about now, she was near a good baritone.  
  
"Bev, please," tears began to form in Jack's eyes. Beverly didn't think she could stand it.  
  
It's not Jack. It's the creature. Concentrate on how to get rid of it. Where's the discrepancy? Where's the flaw in its characterization? How can I get him away from me?  
  
"Beverly, please don't make me leave yet," He had his hands on her arms, trying to hold her still, but she was struggling in slow motion, her eyes locked to his, like someone under water trying to disentangle herself from a squid.  
  
"I... I have something to tell you," Jack said, "Something important, and... and it won't be easy to say. Please. Please sit down."  
  
The creature knew that there was really only one way to get rid of the Enterprise, and that was to convince them that there was no hope of rescuing the Human boy and girl. Not ever. They had to be told their children were dead. Then they would go away and mourn. Even if they ever did learn otherwise of their children, it would be too late to ever find the Neverland again.  
  
Jack forced Beverly with inhuman strength to sit down on her bed, but the gentle expression never left his face. It was eerie. Jack sat next to her on the bed and did not release the vice-grip on her arm. If she was going to try to go somewhere, it would be without her arm. She stared at him.  
  
"Beverly, I have bad news."  
  
She drew up her eyebrows in confusion and worry. "What?"  
  
"It's Wesley. He's... he's gone, Bev," Jack's voice broke.  
  
Beverly stared at him, her eyes growing red as he watched. She was battling with herself, to believe him, not to believe him, to cry, to be strong, to lash out at him, perhaps to get herself killed in the process (but what did that matter now that everyone she loved was gone?), to fight him with every ounce of her strength...  
  
Instead, she whispered, "What do you mean?"  
  
"The children. They... they've killed them. They killed Wesley, and Robin Wallace, too. They killed them, Bev," Jack started crying and leaned towards Beverly to embrace her.  
  
Then, to the creature's surprise, against everything he knew of Human nature, she pulled away, angrily.  
  
"You're lying," Beverly was cold with fury. Her face was stone, her eyes welling but refusing to spill tears.  
  
Jack looked up at her and shook his head slowly. "No... Beverly, I'm not lying."  
  
"You're not even Jack. You're that creature that's working with the children on that monstrous ship to abduct my son. If Wesley is dead, and I have absolutely no reason to believe that he is, then it's your fault. And if that is that case, you'd better start running now."  
  
Suddenly, all Jack's pretense of sadness faded away and he stood, angry and firm. "No, I am not Jack. But your son is dead. And the girl, too. There is nothing left for you to pursue, so stop pursuing my children."  
  
Beverly was shocked. There was the form and figure of Jack, but not his voice, not his personality, not him. So now how could she make him disappear?  
  
"You want me to stop pursuing your children, then we must have ours back. You protect your children, we protect ours. Return them to us."  
  
"You want them back, even dead?"  
  
Beverly swallowed. She still didn't know whether to believe they were dead or not, and tried to decipher signs of dishonesty in his words. "Why did you kidnap them only to kill them?"  
  
"You mean you don't know? They were worth much to us. They were intelligent and powerful beyond anyone of your race. But your adults had destroyed their willingness to be free and to pursue all the uses of their own powers. They were of no use to us as they were, and no use to themselves. They fought us at every turn. So we killed them. It was merciful, really."  
  
"Monster..." Beverly shook her head. She was beginning to believe him.  
  
"Perhaps," one side of his mouth smiled, "but not as monstrous as Humans."  
  
Beverly's eyes filled with horror and disgust. "I want him back. I want my son back."  
  
"See, that's the funny thing about death. You can't ever have him back."  
  
Beverly spoke evenly and slowly, almost hypnotically. "I know about death, I know all about death. I want my son back. I want you to return Wesley and Robin. We will pursue you until you return our children to us."  
  
"We will kill you," the creature shrugged.  
  
Beverly narrowed her eyes and wore a very dangerous expression. "If you have killed my son," she took a breath, "and God help you if you have, nothing will stop me from finding you and taking him back. If I have to steal a shuttlecraft and chase you around the galaxy for the rest of my life, I will get him back."  
  
The creature had to exert extreme control not to back away from the snarling woman leaning closer and closer to him with a murderous expression on her face. Wow. I forgot about how protective mothers can be...  
  
"Oh," the creature sounded as if he'd just gotten the idea. "You want the bodies. For burial. Or... whatever. I understand. Unfortunately, there are no bodies. That would have been very messy. They were executed point blank with disrupters. Actually, it's quite an agonizingly slow and painful death, taken apart molecule by molecule, each integrated organization of atoms in the body erupts. They were vaporized. Disintegrated. Gone. Sorry."  
  
Beverly's hand flew to her mouth. The creature was speaking far too lightly of all this for her to take. She felt like she was in the dream again. She couldn't cry, she couldn't move, she couldn't understand, she couldn't comprehend. Her son was dead, but doesn't a mother know when her child has died? Can't she feel it? She didn't feel the absence of her child, she couldn't sense the end of the life she'd created. Shouldn't she be able to feel that? But, good lord, with disrupters? What was going on? Who was standing in front of her, approaching her, glaring into her eyes with a horrifying absence of conscience, reaching out for her...  
  
How can I get rid of him? How can I save myself? How can I get help? Someone come and help me!  
  
* * *  
  
Deanna leapt out of her seat on the bridge, alarmed.  
  
"Deanna?" Riker whispered to her, "What's wrong?"  
  
"Beverly," she panted, "Beverly needs me. Now." She stared at Will, who sat in the center seat while Picard was off the bridge.  
  
"How do you know that?" as far as Will knew, Deanna could only ever telepathically communicate with two people: her mother and himself. How could she hear a cry for help from Beverly?  
  
"I just have a feeling," she shook her head, as baffled as he was.  
  
"Is she in trouble?" Riker asked, starting to stand to go with her.  
  
"No, no. I don't know. I don't think so. Maybe. I think, I should go to her."  
  
"Deanna, are you all right?" Riker cocked an eyebrow. Troi was making no sense.  
  
"Yes. I just sensed alarm. Or fear. Coming from her." Each new sentence was an afterthought. Deanna was not with Riker on the bridge, her entire mind was focused on Beverly in her quarters, trying to decipher exactly what it was the Chief Medical Officer needed. Riker was merely listening in.  
  
"Do you want a security team?"  
  
"No. I don't think so. Not yet. I'll tell you when I know." Deanna was on the turbolift.  
  
Riker stood in front of the center seat, unable to decide whether to follow her or remain on the bridge. He could conceivably be needed in both places. The turbolift doors closed and his decision had been made for him. He sighed and sank back into the captain's chair.  
  
"Guinan to bridge," a voice came over the commlink.  
  
Riker answered, "This is the bridge. What's the matter, Guinan?"  
  
"I've got that feeling again, Commander."  
  
"I'm on it."  
  
That clinched it. Riker stood again and strode over to the turbolift. "Data, you have the bridge."  
  
"Aye, sir," the android answered, standing from Ops and crossing to the center seat.  
  
* * *  
  
Wes almost jumped out of his skin when he heard the doors open. He sat up on the bed, but didn't stand up. Four young men he'd never seen before entered the room.  
  
"Come with us," one said.  
  
"Where?" Wes asked, making no effort at all to get up off the bed.  
  
The four boys posted themselves around the bed, surrounding him, but did not answer. They seemed to be waiting for Crusher to get up. He didn't.  
  
"I'm not going anywhere until I know where and why."  
  
"You have no choice," the same young man answered. "Come with us now."  
  
"No, it's you who don't have a choice. You can tell me what to do until you're blue in the face, but I'm not doing it until I know why."  
  
"We will physically remove you, if necessary," he answered. Wes sat still. The boy gestured to the other three. Each boy grabbed a limb and lifted.  
  
"Hey, wait! Put me down!"  
  
The four boys dropped him back onto the bed. He rose slowly and straightened the waist of his jersey, granting each boy a long, angry glare, ensuring that there could be no doubt in anyone's mind of his displeasure. "I'll walk," he muttered.  
  
"Good," said the only boy who seemed to possess the power of speech, "follow me."  
  
The boy preceded him out the door, and the other three hustled Wes out behind him. Wes began his routine of memorizing corridors, doorways and their numberings, hatches, bulkheads, computer panels, as much as he could see. A photographic memory is a valuable asset to a prisoner who wishes to escape. Along the way, the corridors began to lose their familiarity. They ceased to look like something the Federation might have produced, and began to look very foreign. They came to a set of doors and stopped in front of them. The doors opened with neither voice nor tactile command. The room appeared to be totally blank. A holosuite with no grids on the surfaces. Inside the room were Kaelha and several others. The center of the room bore a sort of console, but he could not tell from where he stood what it was for. When he approached the console, it appeared to be a cross between a Master Systems Display and a Warp Propulsion Systems Status Display. It appeared that one could monitor every atom of matter and anti-matter in the ship from this table. It also appeared that, from here, one could cause the ship to exceed warp factor 10. Wes knew why he was here.  
  
"Ready for your first try, ensign?" Kaelha smiled.  
  
Wesley shook his head. "No. It's impossible. It's not going to work. And I'm not even going to try to help you. Even if it were possible, I wouldn't help you."  
  
The boy who had brought Wes here stepped up beside Crusher and gripped his arm, holding something a few inches away from Wesley's ribcage, where he could see it. "Know what this is?"  
  
Wesley's eyes widened and he nodded slowly. "It-- It's a disrupter..."  
  
"Good. Don't make me use it."  
  
"B-but, if you kill me, you'll have no way of ever creating a temporal anomaly."  
  
"That is true, ensign," Kaelha answered. "But we'll also have no way if you refuse even to try."  
  
They had a good point there. Wesley stared for a long moment at the console, then slowly stepped towards it and placed his hands flat on the top of the display. He closed his eyes and lowered his head. He absolutely did not want to cooperate. But the only way he could help Robin was if he was alive. So he'd have to try.  
  
The girl who had revealed Wes's mother's identity to Kaelha yesterday, Marn, was in the room with them. She stepped up to the console opposite him and similarly spread her fingers on the panel. Wes opened his eyes and looked up at her. Her gaze bore disconcertingly into his own eyes. Unsettled, he lifted his hands off the display and took a half-step backward, eyes still locked with hers. A young man standing behind Wesley touched his shoulders, and it took no more than that to halt his dazed retreat. But he did not stop back to the panel yet.  
  
Wesley was pervaded with confusion. If someone had prompted him to move back toward the console, or made some move against him, it would have sparked anger in him, and he may very well have gotten himself killed. But no one did. The girl at the console had dark eyes, almost black, and they burned into his own brown eyes. He was trapped in her gaze, and he could not turn away. No one spoke, no one moved.  
  
Wes stepped back up to the console, never taking his eyes off the girl on the other side of it. He began entering calculations. No specific destination, he was just entering configurations that might permit speeds in excess of warp ten. He spread his fingers over the display panel and closed his eyes. He tried to remember exactly what had happened when the Traveler had assisted him in creating a temporal rift.  
  
And he waited.  
  
Without consciously realizing it, Wesley was waiting for certain prompts, certain non-verbal directions. None were forthcoming and nothing was happening.  
  
The girl stared at Wesley and Kaelha looked back and forth between the two of them. No one spoke or moved.  
  
Wesley stood with his eyes closed, his hands on the console, unmoving. Kaelha stepped slowly to the girl's side.  
  
"Marn," she whispered, "what is he doing?"  
  
Marn did not break her intense gaze to Wesley Crusher, but answered, "Nothing. He's waiting."  
  
"Waiting for what?"  
  
Marn stared hard for a moment, the he shook her head. "He doesn't know."  
  
"Can't you do anything?"  
  
"I don't know what he's waiting for any better than he does, what am I supposed to do?" She noticed her captain's angry face. "I can try." Marn closed her eyes and leaned heavily on the console, leaning closer to Crusher.  
  
Wesley inhaled sharply, his eyebrows drawing together, as if concentrating on something. Wes had received the first of his "prompts," and he was beginning the process.  
  
No. It's not working. It's not supposed to be this difficult, Wes thought in the back of his mind. It wasn't this difficult last time. I can't do it.  
  
Wes made a frustrated noise and opened his eyes.  
  
"What happened, ensign?" Kaelha asked coolly.  
  
"I... I don't know. I can't do it. It's much harder this time. It won't work."  
  
"Of course it will, you just have to try harder."  
  
"It's not a matter of trying hard enough," Wes answered. "It's that I don't even know what to try."  
  
"Yes, you do!" Kaelha was growing impatient. "You just need to try harder!"  
  
Wes shook his head and exhaled. She wasn't listening.  
  
Marn turned from Wes for the first time. "I believe that if he were to try harder, he might simply drain himself without accomplishing anything. He doesn't need to do more of what he's already doing, he needs to do something different from or additional to what he's doing. Perhaps, if I could create a channel..."  
  
"Of course," Kaelha calmed again. She gestured to a boy near the door. "Get the girl." He nodded and left the room.  
  
Wes turned a confused expression to Kaelha. "What? Get Robin? Why?"  
  
"She will be your strength, ensign, and Marn can create the bond," the girl with the dark eyes smiled so slightly that it was almost imperceptible. "That's why we kept her. She's a backup for you. If one Human isn't strong enough, perhaps two will be."  
  
Wes took a step back again, and again the boy behind him stopped him gently. "No, I don't want her to be involved in this."  
  
"You also don't want yourself to be involved in this, but you aren't able to control that, either. I suggest you simply help us, for your own benefits, and you'll keep yourselves out of the path of that disrupter."  
  
"If I am able to help you, if we succeed," Wes was afraid to ask this question, "then what? Do you return us?"  
  
"If you succeed, ensign, none of this will ever have happened. You will never have heard of me, and you'll be happily back on your ship. If that is what you want."  
  
"I can't just decide to help you, though. I can't just promise you that I'll succeed. I don't even know what to do."  
  
"Well, ensign, you'd better hope you succeed."  
  
"Fine," Wes was angry. "You want to see what I can do? I'll cooperate with you, if only to show you that you're wrong about me and I can't send you back in time."  
  
Kaelha nodded. "All we ever asked is that you try."  
  
Wesley gaped at her in utter disbelief, as he stood, surrounded by guards, held at disrupter-point, a captive with no means of escape forced to do this for them. And all they did was ask, ha.  
  
The boy who'd been sent to retrieve Robin entered with Dalev and without Robin. Dalev sported a huge bruise on his right cheekbone.  
  
"What happened?" Kaelha was stunned. "Where's the Human girl?"  
  
"Captain," Dalev began, "she... she escaped."  
  
"Escaped? From you?"  
  
"She... is a great expert at battle. I sincerely believe she could have defeated two if there had been so many."  
  
"She defeated you? You?" Kaelha couldn't believe a Human girl had beaten the daylights out of the largest B'Safran male she'd ever seen.  
  
"Yes!" Wes whispered through a grin. He couldn't help it.  
  
"Silence!" the boy with the disrupter bellowed and pressed the weapon between Crusher's eyes.  
  
Wes snapped his mouth shut.  
  
"Find her. Now. I don't care how long or how many of you it takes. She's on a starcruiser, there's only so many places she can go. Now get going." Several boys, including Dalev, left the room in a hurry. Kaelha turned her attention back to the matter at hand. "Marn. You can help the Human, can't you?"  
  
The girl who had been standing across from Wes nodded and turned to face him. "I believe so."  
  
A boy carefully turned Wesley back to the console. Wes closed his eyes and placed his hands back on the display.  
  
"He's been past the first stage," Kaelha said to Marn. It's a step, a small one, but an important one. Now perhaps we can go forward. Establish the link."  
  
Marn stepped toward Wesley and reached her hands towards his face. He flinched and pulled away, but the boy standing behind him held him firmly in place.  
  
"Do not be afraid," Marn's voice was gentle and soothing, "I will not harm you."  
  
Marn touched her fingers to either side of Wes's face. His eyes fluttered closed. When Marn was sure the Human boy would no longer attempt to resist, she closed her eyes as well.  
  
Suddenly, Marn could see a starfield, like the starfield that can be seen when one is traveling at maximum warp. Then it began moving faster. She could hear Wesley's thoughts:  
  
"Warp factor 7 equals 846.354 times the speed of light, forces up to 107 megajules power usage, 900 times the speed of light, warp factor 7.8462, increase to 108 cochrane, approaching warp factor 8..."  
  
Marn felt as if she could see and hear the fabric of space tearing. A sound one might hear if he were unlucky enough to be inside a warp core.  
  
"Reaching warp factor 9.6318, 2,114 times the speed of light, compensating for diffraction factor, narr... narrowing... narrowing percentage... of..."  
  
"He won't make it to the next step alone, captain," Marn whispered. "He could use my strength now."  
  
"Fine."  
  
An expression of strain moved across Marn's face.  
  
Wesley, who had felt as though he was fainting, experienced a similar sensation to having a wave of cool water wash over him. He inhaled.  
  
"Narrowing percentage of scattering, keeping peak transitional threshold low...  
  
"THEORY: any object traveling at warp 10 will occupy all points in the universe simultaneously.  
  
"THEORY: any object traveling faster than warp 10 may disrupt the space/time continuum.  
  
"Accelerating to warp factor 10, alternate velocity at Planck time rate, 1.3 x 10-43 second, between warp factor 10 and warp factor 9.9999999996 and triangulate on the coordinates of the focal point..."  
  
Marn was extremely confused and extremely impressed all at the same time. Confused because she didn't understand a word of what the Human boy was thinking, and impressed because he obviously understood every word of what he was thinking.  
  
"THEORY: Quantum, photon particles, can be affected with anti-matter similarly to how matter is affected."  
  
Marn was beginning to feel strained.  
  
"That's it. That's the whole formula. But... the Traveler always said, there's something beyond the numbers, look beyond the theories, concentrate... concentrate..."  
  
Marn felt a sharp headache come on very suddenly. Her face contorted in pain and she ducked her head, trying to lessen the sensation. She could hear Wesley's breath becoming quicker, more labored.  
  
"Concentrate... look into the... into the fabric of... look..."  
  
Wesley opened his eyes and staggered. The boy behind him reached out a steadying hand until Wes could plant his feet solidly under himself and regain his balance. "What happened?" he asked.  
  
"I was about to ask you that," Kaelha answered, nothing but concern on her face. "Did you get close?"  
  
"Yeah, but I couldn't take the final step. All I could do was the math. I can't do whatever comes next. I don't even know what comes next."  
  
Wesley strained his memory for the Traveler's voice from years ago, "You know the formulas, Wesley, let it go. Let go of the guilt, let go of the fear. Release it."  
  
"Try again," Kaelha ordered.  
  
"What?" Wes's voice edged up a notch. "Maybe you didn't realize because..." Wes pointed to Marn, "that girl didn't put you inside my head, but that was hard! I can't do it again!"  
  
"Do it again," Kaelha insisted. "One more try, ensign, you were so close." Wes was extremely conscious of the danger to himself, both if he cooperated and if he did not: his fatigue, and the disrupter. He could not find and rescue Robin if they disrupted him to death.  
  
Wes placed his hands back on the panel and heaved a sigh. He checked the coordinates. They were only a very few parsecs from where they had been when he entered the room. All those formulas he was doing in his head, they hadn't affected the speed of the ship at all. Perhaps you must complete the process before it begins to move the ship. Perhaps it wasn't possible at all.  
  
~It is only impossible when your determination, your need to help, is not there.~  
  
Wes closed his eyes. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the thought occurred to him that it wasn't working because he didn't want it to work.  
  
"Warp factor 7 equals 846.354 times the speed of light, forces up to 107 megajules p-- power usage..."  
  
The boy standing behind Wesley again placed a steadying hand on his shoulders.  
  
"Power usage. Increasing to 900 times the speed of light, warp factor 7.8462, increase to 108 cochrane, approa-- approaching... warp factor ten... no, factor 8, factor... 10 to the eighth power is... megajules in a cochrane... warp... factor..."  
  
Wesley opened his eyes and realized he had been caught under the arms by the boy standing beside him. Wes removed himself from his support and slumped to a kneeling position on the floor, his left hand on the floor for support, his right hand against his forehead. He was short of breath.  
  
Marn spoke softly to Kaelha, "If you make him try again, we will have to put him in sickbay and he will be of no use to us at all."  
  
Wes now knew how the Traveler felt the first time they had met. Overworked.  
  
"Please, let me go," he asked weakly.  
  
Kaelha sighed. "We're through for now. Take him back to his quarters."  
  
Wesley was lifted from the ground and assisted out of the room.  
  
* * *  
  
Jack... Jack... What's happening to me...?  
  
The creature stepped towards her, immobilizing her with telepathic energy, confusing her. Then, when she was powerless, he could kill her quickly and efficiently. A simple snap of the neck and she would be finished. Perhaps that would be enough to scare off the Humans. And if it wasn't, he'd kill off high-ranking officers, one at a time, until the only one left was the captain. Then he would have the captain begging for mercy before all his ensigns that so admired him! This was almost fun.  
  
The creature wrapped its hands around her throat carefully, then slowly began to tighten its fingers. Beverly's hands were futilely clamped around its wrists. She could not bring herself to fight it off with any strength. She told herself to kick, but her legs would not move. Her jaw had been clenched, but now it fell open, trembling. Her eyebrows drew upwards and she stared up at her husband, her eyes asking why... why was he doing this to her...  
  
No, it's not my husband... this is not Jack... Jack... I... I can't breathe...  
  
Deanna burst through the doors and the creature turned in surprise, releasing Beverly. Beverly slid down the wall to the floor, choking. The creature started towards Deanna.  
  
She smacked her comm badge, "Troi to Riker!" Nothing happened. Of course, by now everyone knew the commlinks didn't work when the creature was present, but no one would give up on at least trying it.  
  
A glass sculpture the size of a softball hurtled through the air straight at the creature's head. The creature dodged the airborne artwork and it smashed against the wall behind it. Deanna glanced over at Beverly, who had just slung the sculpture at the creature. By the time Deanna turned back to face the creature, it was upon her. It grabbed her by both wrists and turned to fling her against the far wall. It didn't get a chance.  
  
The creature was yanked backward by the shoulders. It let go of Troi in surprise. Riker was standing behind it.  
  
"Get the hell off my ship," he said and hauled his right fist backward. The most powerful punch Troi had ever seen Will Riker throw landed dead in the center of the creature's face with a sickening crunch. The creature disappeared.  
  
Riker staggered a little with the sudden lack of resistance against his right fist, then stared at his hand in confusion. "Didn't think it would be that easy," he blinked.  
  
"You did it," Deanna was staring at Riker in disbelief.  
  
"I think what I just did was teach it to take a punch. That won't get rid of it next time."  
  
"How did you know to come...?"  
  
"Guinan. She got that Q feeling. I thought I should check it out."  
  
Beverly walked slowly to the table and sank into her chair.  
  
"Are you all right?" Deanna whispered.  
  
Beverly nodded. But she wasn't all right. Wesley was dead.  
  
"What happened?" Riker asked.  
  
Deanna brought a glass of water from the replicator and set it on the table in front of Beverly. She stared at it.  
  
"Wesley's dead," she said.  
  
"What?" Riker's eyes narrowed.  
  
Deanna blinked. "He's...?"  
  
Beverly nodded and whispered, "Robin, too. The creature... said there wasn't any use for them after all. They were shot... point blank... with disrupters."  
  
Deanna put her fingers to her mouth to cover a gasp. She slipped into the seat next to Beverly, trying not to think about how it must feel to be shot with a disrupter.  
  
"I don't buy it," Riker crossed his arms. "Kidnap two of our officers just to kill them off? It makes no sense."  
  
Deanna followed the commander's thinking. After a moment's consideration, she nodded. "The creature may have been lying, just to make the Enterprise give up the search. I sense that you don't really believe they're gone." She shrugged, "Neither do I."  
  
"I didn't believe it, at first," Beverly was forcing each word out separately, trying to keep her voice from breaking up, "but he spoke about it... so... coldly... as if he really hated them... and was really capable... of..."  
  
Deanna shook her head and covered Beverly's hands with her own. "We can't assume they're dead. It seems that's exactly what the creature wants us to do. We can't abandon a search after only half a day. And we cannot just allow a ship to go along its way after having kidnapped and allegedly murdered two of our officers. How long do you think it will be before they realize that if we think our officers are dead, we will open fire on their ship, not leave them alone?"  
  
Riker stayed back from the table, standing with his arms crossed over his chest and his feet planted wide. "I have a feeling that if we keep after them, they'll call their own bluff."  
  
Beverly had been staring at the water glass unwaveringly, afraid to even move her eyes. Beverly Crusher, tower of Scottish strength, did her best not to cry anymore. But right now she didn't know what to think. Things were happening far too quickly. She would listen to her friend's comforting words and keep up the search. And if Wesley was dead...  
  
God help them. 


	21. Chapter Twenty

Chapter 20  
  
Robin couldn't hide forever. And she wasn't hiding, anyway. She was... lost, actually. She was lost somewhere in the Jefferies tubes on this gigantic ship. She had found a border of sorts, where the ship's construction changed dramatically. It was like phasing from a Federation ship to a Ferengi ship or something in a matter of inches. Weird.  
  
She had seen no one for hours, almost six hours. She needed to find Wesley, but didn't know how. She had found Main Engineering, but there were people constantly in it, and she couldn't manage to get out past the grate without being seen. Yet.  
  
She saw her opportunity. Two people turned around the corner. A third was behind the warp core. She had been loosening the grate for hours and now a strong breath would dislodge it. She could pull it out gently, quietly, and slip out of the tubes. She didn't really have a plan after that. If she could take out the three people presently in Engineering, she'd have control of the ship.  
  
Well, she'd have control if she knew a little more about Engineering. She would do anything to borrow Wes's brain right about now.  
  
* * *  
  
Geordi was about to head up to the bridge. He was in his office off the matter/anti-matter reaction assembly. It was one of the few places Geordi could be both in his element and alone at the same time, since there was usually a handful of people milling around the rest of Main Engineering. Everyone who worked under Geordi knew not to disturb him with anything less than an emergency when he was in his office -- everyone except Wes, who knew he could go and talk to his friend and mentor anytime.  
  
Geordi remembered not so long ago, when Riker, Worf and Wesley were in a shuttlecraft that was lost, and they were all presumed dead. There was even a funeral service in the holodeck. Picard had spoken about Riker, Deanna about Worf, and Geordi was the one to speak about Wesley. It seemed to Geordi that he had the hardest job, speaking about the death of a seventeen-year-old boy with his widowed mother sitting right there. He had told a story of Wes's thrill and fascination with simply taking apart and reassembling a tricorder. And Geordi was not much of a speaker when he wasn't in emotional pain. Fortunately, the service hadn't been necessary after all, and all three officers were safely back aboard the Enterprise just days after their own funerals.  
  
Geordi didn't think he could bear going to Wesley's funeral a second time.  
  
He sighed and rested his head in his hands, trying to will away some of the stress headache that was a constant in his life. But the pain suddenly became unbearably sharp.  
  
He leaped up and cried out, his forehead crinkling in agony. Across his field of vision danced laser lights and fireworks. The room seemed to melt away, the floor above and the ceiling below. Walls contorted and the room appeared to be little more than a can of many colors of paint being stirred slowly. There seemed to be a rushing, roaring sound, like an ocean in a storm. Geordi felt the chair bump into the back of his legs, then floor came up to meet him and smashed into his shoulder. He lay flat on his back on the floor, arms out, almost gripping the floor for a sense of solidity. He reached for his communicator, "LaForge to Doctor Crusher!"  
  
Nothing happened. There was nothing wrong with his VISOR or with his physiognomy, this was the creature.  
  
But Tasha didn't look like this! She just looked like a person with hypothermia. This is agony!  
  
"What do you want?!" Geordi was yelling over the roaring.  
  
A very low voice seemed to rise from the roaring, as if the voice had been making the sound all along, and suddenly could form words from it. It spoke very slowly, and Geordi couldn't tell if he was hearing it in his ears or in his head.  
  
"They are gone."  
  
Geordi was beginning to feel nauseous. He gripped his VISOR and pulled. It wouldn't come off as easily as it should. He yanked and it came off -- and it hurt. But the spinning and roaring stopped, and he was in blind darkness. Geordi was kneeling on the floor gripping his VISOR in both hands. He took several deep breaths and listened carefully. Not a sound. He stood and felt around for his chair. It was toppled over behind his desk. He righted it and sat, trying to get himself back together enough to speak coherently when he called security. He tried to put his VISOR back on.  
  
It flew out of his hands as if batted away from him. He heard it clatter to the floor. He tried to stand, but two incredibly powerful hands were on his shoulders.  
  
"Who's there?" Geordi felt stupid asking who was there when the person was right in front of him and touching him. He didn't really consider himself blind until someone took his VISOR away.  
  
"Go away," said a Human voice. "Your friends are dead. Now leave."  
  
Geordi gripped the wrists holding him in his chair and tried to free himself. "Yeah, right. You're telling me the entire ship of children went to all the trouble of seeking out the Enterprise, threatening it, sending some ghost thing -- namely you -- in hopes that there'd be some kids aboard that they could pointlessly murder. Sorry, I'm not buying." Geordi tried again to stand up.  
  
The creature lifted Geordi out of his chair and placed him in the center of the room. "You want to stand? Go ahead," the voice came from all directions, giving Geordi absolutely no indication of where the creature was, "but how will you fight me?"  
  
"You want me to fight you?" Geordi seemed appalled.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Blind?" Geordi still couldn't believe it. "That's hardly fair. What kind of fight would that be? You, an obviously more powerful being, fighting a blind guy without his VISOR. You really must be some kind of coward."  
  
"I'm simply short on time, and I have a lot of officers to kill."  
  
Geordi swallowed hard. He felt the air move near his head. He dropped to the floor and heard the swoosh of an incredibly powerful fist pass over his head.  
  
Geez, who taught this guy to throw a punch, Commander Riker?!?  
  
He rolled to the left and got up to his knees again, sending a backfist in the creature's direction. He caught the creature right in the backs of the knees and it staggered. Geordi remembered that when the creature picked him up, it had moved him around his desk, but Geordi was still facing the door. Geordi got up running, arms stretched out before him. His foot kicked something metal on the floor. His VISOR! He stooped to reach it, but the creature was clawing at his heels. Cursing, he let it lay, then ran out of his office.  
  
Once in Main Engineering, Geordi suddenly felt dizzy again. But there would be people around to help him. He collapsed against the Master Systems Display and lowered himself to the floor.  
  
Then he felt someone grip him by the arms. He started to react, to fight it off, but then the person spoke.  
  
"Sir! Geordi! It's me, Billy Nolan. What happened? Where's your VISOR?"  
  
"Billy," Geordi breathed. "The creature. It was back... in my office. It did something to my VISOR, made all crazy colors and noises. I took it off and the creature took it away. It's in my office."  
  
"I'll get it," Billy started to get up.  
  
"No, Billy!" Geordi held tight to the boy. "That creature might still be there. It said it had a lot of people to kill."  
  
Billy struck his badge, "Security." It worked. Billy explained the situation and a security team promised to be there immediately.  
  
Billy helped Geordi up and pulled his arm across his shoulders. "Can you walk with me, sir?" Geordi nodded. Then Billy touched his badge again. "Ensign Nolan to Doctor Crusher."  
  
* * *  
  
"Yes, Guinan?" Picard asked the open commlink from the bridge to the corridor in Deck 10, "Do you sense it again?"  
  
"Just now. It started just a minute ago."  
  
"Do you have any idea where it might be?"  
  
"No, captain. I just have that feeling."  
  
"Thank you, Guinan. We'll be on our guard. Picard out." The captain turned to Riker, Troi and Doctor Crusher, who were standing beside him in the center of the bridge. "First, we should locate any friends of Wesley's to see if that's who the creature could be with. We should probably start with either Geordi or Ensign N--"  
  
"Ensign Nolan to Doctor Crusher."  
  
"Yes, ensign?" Beverly glanced at Picard.  
  
"I'm down here in Main Engineering with Geordi. The creature was just here and messed with his VISOR. Security's getting the VISOR. The creature threatened to kill a lot of people. I think he's okay now, but I'm helping him up to sickbay."  
  
"I'll meet you in sickbay, ensign."  
  
As Beverly rushed to the turbolift, Picard turned to Riker.  
  
Riker took the eye contact as his order to follow the doctor and get Geordi's story. "I guess that was our answer, sir."  
  
Picard gave a quick nod as his first officer jogged after the doctor.  
  
* * *  
  
Wesley was pacing around the tiny quarters in which he'd been locked. He had been trying for almost nine hours to figure a way to get out of at least the room, then off the Neverland altogether, with Robin in tow. He couldn't find a way. All access to the computer was locked off with security codes. Wesley had almost decided to start randomly picking security codes, but if the Enterprise had a security seal for just such attempts, then surely the Neverland would. Wesley could not find a computer panel anywhere, either. He couldn't even get at any wiring. Wesley knew the Enterprise like the back of his hand, and the Neverland was so similar in so many ways that he was surprised that he could not find a way around his confinement. It was as if the Neverland used Starfleet regulations to build their ship, as if it had access to Federation computer files, as if...  
  
Wait. Maybe Wes could use his own Federation code to access the computer. If he tried just one code and it failed, the breach of security would not lock him out just yet. The code had to fail twice to be a breach of security, to allow for Human error. He simply would not try a second time.  
  
"Computer."  
  
"Ready."  
  
Wes hesitated, "Locate Ensign Robin Wallace."  
  
"There is no Ensign Robin Wallace aboard the Neverland."  
  
Wes smacked himself in the forehead with the heel of his palm. No Robin Wallace wearing a communicator, anyway. Shipboard computers can't locate biological folk who aren't wearing comm pins. And both his and Robin's pins were safely back aboard the Enterprise without them. He decided to try his code.  
  
"Access Main Engineering-- Cancel." Wes remembered he probably wouldn't be able to do anything on the Neverland he was not authorized to do on the Enterprise, and on the Enterprise, he only had limited access to Main Engineering from remote locations, not enough to do him any good here. He would have to stick to his own territory. "Access Main Flight Control at Bridge Helm Station, Starfleet security code Crusher Sigma 75 Dervish, Enable."  
  
"Access granted. Current heading: galactic bearing 165 mark 60, half impulse," droned the male computer voice.  
  
"Yes!" Wes whispered excitedly.  
  
So these kids just hacked their way into Starfleet's computers and downloaded everything. They were so busy playing with photon torpedoes and cloaking devices to worry about modifying existing security access codes.  
  
He could set in a course for a range close enough for subspace radio communication at a rapid rate, if he could figure out how to rig one up without being noticed. But first, a little question had been nagging at him, and he decided to try for an answer.  
  
"Computer, access Starfleet Galaxy Class Starship Operations files."  
  
"Access denied."  
  
Careful. Don't get locked out yet. "Computer, does Captain Kaelha have access to these files?"  
  
"Affirmative."  
  
Ah-ha! So I was right about them hacking the files from Starfleet. What else do these kids know?  
  
"Does Captain Kaelha have access to Starfleet Personnel files?"  
  
"Affirmative."  
  
"And records of deceased Starfleet officers?"  
  
"Affirmative."  
  
"How about... the Captain's Log of the U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701-D?"  
  
"Affirmative."  
  
Affirmative? This meant that Kaelha could peek into the Enterprise's life at her whim!  
  
Then Wes had a nauseating thought. There were things these kids knew that wouldn't be in the captain's log: personal things, incidental things, things of no consequence to a starship but that could be important to an individual.  
  
"Computer, does Captain Kaelha have access to the personal log of Ensign Wesley Crusher of the U.S.S. Enterprise?"  
  
"Affirmative."  
  
Wesley blanched. Literally, someone had read his diary. He decided to find out how many other journals Kaelha had peeked into.  
  
"Computer, list members of the Enterprise crew to whose personal logs Captain Kaelha has access."  
  
The male computer voice began a running list of the entire crew complement of the Enterprise, including the captain, Data, Robin, Wesley's mother, Tasha Yar, and dozens of ensigns with whom Wesley either worked, studied, or had even met.  
  
Before the computer could finish, Wesley tired of the role call, "Cancel."  
  
He had an idea.  
  
"Computer, access Commander Jack Crusher's personal log from the U.S.S. Stargazer, clearance 23... uh, 9407." It had been quite some time since he last accessed his father's log.  
  
"Access granted." Wes caught his breath. He had thought his mother and himself were the only ones with access to his father's personal log anymore. Starfleet doesn't have it. The children must have hacked it right out of his mother's personal files in their quarters.  
  
"Computer, play Jack Crusher's personal log entry from January 20, 2349, audio only."  
  
The computer twinkled, then stated, "Audio playback of Jack Crusher's personal log entry from January 20th, 2349, filename 'Wesley Richard Crusher'."  
  
Then Jack's voice came through the air. Wes hadn't listened to this entry since just after his father's death almost 9 years ago. "Today has got to be the happiest day of my life. Today, my beautiful wife had a baby. As I've stated in recent entries, the name we picked for a girl is Gina Leigh and for a boy is Wesley Richard. Today, Wesley Richard Crusher was born. he was only six pounds even, and he cried so loud the doctor told us he had the best lungs in the maternity ward!"  
  
Wesley smiled at that.  
  
"He's beautiful. I knew having a baby would be wonderful, but it's more than that. It's... it's amazing. You can't even imagine the feeling. You look down at this tiny little life and then you look at yourself and wonder when you changed from that to this. And you wonder how it's possible that part of you created that little baby.  
  
"He hardly looks like Bev at all. He has my eyes and nose, but her mouth. He was born with a little peach-fuzz hair, and it's as dark as mine, not red like Beverly's. And he's got my stick-out ears."  
  
Wes laughed. He remembered baby pictures of himself with those stick- out ears, and the long curls of dark hair that had covered them up. But he had grown into his ears by the time he was three.  
  
"I can't wait for all the things we'll do together. I want to be around for as much of his life as I possibly can. I can't leave Starfleet just now, but my leave lasts another two months before I'm off again. And I certainly don't want my wife and son in space with me!"  
  
Wes's face straightened. Last time he had heard this message, he hadn't remembered that part. And what did they both do when Jack was buried but jump right into space, exactly what he said he didn't want. Wes had always thought his father would approve of his son following in his footsteps.  
  
"I want to play with him for the first time. I want to play catch with him, to teach him about the world, more and more as it grows bigger and bigger around him. I want to meet his girlfriends, watch him graduate from college, be at his wedding, play with my grandchildren... I can see his whole life laid out before him, like the first page of a new book. I bet he'll even be a doctor like Bev. He'll be successful and loved and happy. At least, that's what I want for him." Jack had sighed at this point. "And looking at him now, I know that when I leave this world, I want the last thing I see to be this tiny face. My dying wish would be for him to--"  
  
"Stop playback." Wes knew what the next words were. His father had said 'be as blessed as I have been with love and joy, and with life itself.' How ironic. Wes's father had only ever been able to play catch with him, out of that whole long list of things he wanted to do with his newborn son. He felt cheated. He wanted his father to see him through the Academy to graduation. He wanted his father's approval in his choice to venture into space. He wanted his father to be at his wedding. His father couldn't even say that Wesley's tiny face had been the last thing he'd seen, and Wes was sure that in the abortive away team mission that took his father's life, his father's last thoughts were not peaceful reflections on the life he had lived and the new life he'd created. It wasn't fair to either of them. But where did the blame lie?  
  
All Wes remembered from the day of his father's death was his mother crying. He thought the world must be coming apart, because his mother was such a strong woman as almost never to cry. But Wes didn't cry. He couldn't cry. He was too furious, with Captain Picard for allowing his father to die, with his father for going out to space and never returning, with his mother for allowing his father to leave, with himself for not being right out there with his father, by his side, with him when his father needed to see his face.  
  
Nine-year-old Wesley had the strange sensation that he was walking around in a dream, an awful dream that he would wake from at any moment. His father was not dead, could not be dead. Death could not be a final and lasting goodbye. It wasn't fair, therefore it could not be the truth. And that's how Wesley dealt with the entire situation, waiting to wake up and see how things were in real life, when life was fair. He waited to wake up until he was so distanced from the pain that it no longer mattered, and Wesley never cried for his father.  
  
Now his memories had been distorted by the twisted image the creature presented of his father. Wes had to listen to that log entry, even just to remember what his father was really like. And it gave him strength. For a brief moment, he felt the fire of pride in being part of Starfleet, the risk, the passion, the glory, that spark that had been fading slowly for months, the excitement that had been wearing off. A Starfleet officer will persevere. He shook his head and took a breath, inspired.  
  
There was a task at hand. He began to think about his and Robin's escape. The first thing he had to do was locate the Enterprise. Then he had to find Robin and get to her, then get to their own ship. Far more easily said than done.  
  
He could enter a heading, but not initiate it until all calculations were completed, giving him more travel time, less figuring time, before someone caught onto his plan. He had to hack through the system without the helmsman figuring out what was going on.  
  
"Computer, set helm course."  
  
"Complying, ready."  
  
"Half sublight." Wes stopped for a moment. Where was the Enterprise?  
  
"Enter heading or flight vector."  
  
"In a minute. How many other starships are within 12 parsecs of the Neverland?"  
  
"One starship. Galaxy class. The U.S.S. Enterprise of the United Federation of Planets."  
  
"Determine their heading."  
  
"Galactic heading bearing 160, mark 25, half impulse."  
  
"Determine our galactic heading."  
  
"Bearing 160, mark 25, half impulse."  
  
"The Enterprise is tailing us..." he whispered.  
  
Wes was up and pacing around the room, his mind thinking so fast that his body had to move just to keep up.  
  
"Okay, um..." This is really hard without the console in front of me, he thought. "Okay, relative heading bearing 325, mark 340, intercept starship, half sublight. Initiate sequence and wait for my command to engage."  
  
"Complying."  
  
"Access bridge tactical station," Wes crossed his fingers. He had limited access to tactical on the Enterprise, but his access did include a low intensity tractor beam, mainly used only for towing shuttlecraft, but that would be enough. All he needed was a disguise for a ship-to-ship subspace communication.  
  
"Access granted."  
  
"Once within range of the Enterprise, lock on a low intensity tractor beam."  
  
"Complying."  
  
Wes knew there would be a complete record of all his activities for the last nine hours or so, but he didn't care. By the time someone got to him, the Enterprise would know exactly where he was and how to rescue both himself and Robin.  
  
Now the quick work begins. He braced himself.  
  
"Engage helm flight vector," he said, more loudly than he'd intended.  
  
"Course engaged."  
  
"Okay, send a ship-to-ship subspace communication along the tractor beam when in range. Communication will contain the following: Enterprise, I am locked in quarters on the same deck as the main transporter room. I've been separated from Robin." Without revealing his plan to his captors, should they discover the communiqué, he wanted Data to scan for DNA matching theirs, lock onto it and transport them back, all of which could not be done while Neverland held shields. Data knew that, and he knew Wes knew that, so Data should figure out that Wes was going to try to knock out shields for as long as he could -- which meant Data had to be ready. "Please transport us out of here."  
  
That should be enough. He hoped.  
  
"Within range, locking tractor beam."  
  
"Good. Send that message along the beam to--"  
  
"Tractor beam has been cut off."  
  
"Damn!" If there had been a single object in the room that wasn't nailed down besides a pillow, Wes would have flung it into a wall. He had to get out of this room! He was getting very edgy. And now that they were catching on to his little computer hackery, he'd have no access at all. If he were Data, he'd just rip the doors off the tracks. But there was no way a Human could do that, probably not even Worf could do it.  
  
There was a door panel near the door. It was disabled, Wes knew from trying it intermittently throughout his captivity. He could try enabling it in a roundabout way, using his own code, and he'd have to work quickly before they killed his code.  
  
Wes laid his route as quickly as he could speak and think. "Computer, access aft engineering station. Security functions. Through aft engineering, access aft mission ops, main relay. Link engineering and mission ops, extend link to aft tactical, security functions, door locks, release Deck 4, 0167, initiate."  
  
Nothing like a big old maze to run through, to add a few seconds to the trace.  
  
"Complying. Completed."  
  
The doors whooshed open. Wesley could hardly believe it. He stepped out, carefully, checking both ways for signs of people. None. He crept down the corridor away from the transporter room. He had not seen a turbolift or Jefferies tube on his way to his quarters, and what he really needed was tube.  
  
Or a tricorder..., he thought as an officer in med blues rounded the corner, reading a dataclip and not looking where he was going. Wes stepped silently behind a bulkhead support beam and waited for the unsuspecting officer.  
  
When the officer passed, Wes struck him hard on the back of the neck with the outside edge of his hand, knocking him senseless.  
  
"Sorry," he whispered as he searched the pockets of the med coat for a tricorder and found one. Of course.  
  
As he ran off, he programmed the tricorder to search for Human, female, 21-year-old DNA.  
  
* * *  
  
"Captain!" cried a young helmsman from her seat at Conn. "I'm showing a change of course! Full reverse, heading straight for the Enterprise!"  
  
"What?" Kaelha stalked over to the navigator and stared over her shoulder. "How did that happen?"  
  
"I don't know, sir! I didn't touch anything!" the girl looked frightened.  
  
"Sir!" called a huge boy from tactical, "I'm showing that we've locked a tractor beam onto the Enterprise, but very low intensity, just touching them, it could never pull them."  
  
"Well cut it off!"  
  
"Aye, sir!"  
  
"Helm, full stop."  
  
"Yes, sir!"  
  
"Sir!" the boy at tactical again, "Door locks on deck four have been released."  
  
"What? How? Trace that command, lieutenant!"  
  
"Aye, sir. The command came through tactical, but not from manual console input. I didn't enter it. It was entered through another station. I'm looking for which one. Mission Ops. But again, that was only a route. Mission Ops is linked with Aft Engineering. The command came to Aft Engineering through the Main Computer. And... it came to the main computer through a voice command. And the command got access through a lieutenant class access code."  
  
"Whose code?"  
  
"No one on this ship. The voice command initiated from the room on which the doors just opened."  
  
"It's Crusher's room, Crusher's code, isn't it?"  
  
"I'll check Starfleet's codes if you'd like, sir."  
  
"Don't bother. It's him. Find him," she pointed to the security officer to the door and he started out. "He can't get far, he's just an unarmed Human."  
  
"Nurse Navvaro to Captain Kaelha," a commlink opened from a corridor to the bridge.  
  
"Yes, nurse?"  
  
"I was just attacked by the Human boy on Deck 4. He... he took my tricorder, sir."  
  
Kaelha cursed so loudly that everyone on the bridge and even the nurse on deck 4 cringed.  
  
* * *  
  
"Hey, you!"  
  
Wes turned and saw three security officers armed with phasers behind him.  
  
Oh god...  
  
He started running. He'd finished programming the tricorder, but he was moving too quickly for its narrow scope to pick up anything. He could be running right past Robin, but he couldn't slow down. He'd do her much less good dead. He flipped the tricorder closed and concentrated on sprinting.  
  
Around a corner and he was out of reach of the phasers. If he could just keep one corner ahead of them long enough to outrun them...  
  
Around the next corner, the corridor was long and straight with no intersections. There was no way they were as far behind him as this corridor was long. There was nothing he could do but keep running. A phaser beam lanced past his head. They missed!  
  
The corner was still very far away, and Wes couldn't dodge a barrage of beams.  
  
He didn't. The next one slammed into the center of his back and he was knocked forward onto the floor.  
  
Wesley's world went black.  
  
* * *  
  
Robin had managed to take out all three officers in Engineering before being stunned into unconsciousness by the phaser of a security officer. She woke up in the brig, alone in a blank room furnished only with a cot.  
  
Great, she thought as she wracked her brain for a means of escape and came up empty.  
  
She didn't know how many hours had passed while she was unconscious, and her every waking minute felt like a full hour. If she knew anything about phasers, and she did, she had been out for at least three hours.  
  
She didn't bother getting up off her cot. What would she do? Pace around? Why bother? There was nothing she could do. She was defeated. Imprisoned. And swiftly becoming depressed.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Responses to reviews:  
  
db: Now you're spoiling me. *preens* 


	22. Chapter TwentyOne

Chapter 21  
  
Geordi was fine and on the bridge with Billy within ten minutes to give his report to the captain. Apparently, the creature was getting vicious and personal. For the moment, no one spoke of the creature. Everyone was concentrated on finding Wesley and Robin, pretty much in silence, relieved to be surrounded by everyone else and temporarily out of danger.  
  
The Enterprise bridge was alive with crew members working overtime to try to rescue their lost fellow officers. Worf was hailing and scanning, scanning and hailing. Geordi was wiring and configuring and planning and scheming. Data was failing with every theory his positronic brain could think up, except the one that the baffling occurrence of almost 4 hours ago, when the Neverland turned around and touched the Enterprise briefly with a tractor beam then resumed its former course, was Wesley's doing. Troi was concentrating and getting a headache. Riker and Picard were pacing oppositely across the bridge, crossing each other in front of the center seat. Beverly was biting her nails and worrying. Ensign Billy Nolan, sitting at Conn in pursuit of a gigantic starcruiser, was praying that Wes was alive so he could come home and take this stressful job back from him.  
  
At about fifteen minute intervals, Picard would walk through his ready room doors, either going in or coming out. Each time he came onto the bridge, he would demand a report from each station, which never changed. "Nothing yet, sir." For a fraction of a second, Picard wished he could just have the answer, no matter what it was, then shook the awful thought from his mind. At least "Nothing yet, sir" meant they could maintain hope. He wasn't sure he could bear hearing "We've lost them, sir."  
  
For almost a full day, Picard had gotten no information on his captured crew members. He feared that next time a link was established to the Neverland, he'd reach through the viewscreen and throttle whomever was on it until they told him what they had done with his junior officers.  
  
It had only been ten minutes since Picard last came out of his ready room, but he felt the need to go back in and find in there something that would solve this whole problem. As soon as he had resolved that on his next pacing past he would keep right on going into his ready room, a call came over the commlink.  
  
"O'Brien to Captain Picard."  
  
"Go ahead, Chief," the captain stopped pacing, hoping desperately that some way had been found to save Wesley Crusher and Robin Wallace.  
  
"Sir, I've had a request to transport Ensigns Wallace and Crusher."  
  
The bridge froze.  
  
Then they all leapt to life at once. "On my way," Picard told Chief O'Brien. "Doctor, you're with me. Number One, you have the bridge."  
  
Beverly's mind was whirling. O'Brien had just said "had a request to transport." He didn't say in what condition. He didn't say if they were alive. He didn't say who made the request. Somewhere in her mind's melodrama, augmented by her panic and fear, she pictured seeing the lifeless forms of her son and his friend lying on the transporter platform.  
  
Of course, if that were the case, he would transport them directly to sickbay, wouldn't he? If he had any control over the situation, he would have done just that. If he even knew the condition of the junior officers. And he would alert medical officers -- Which is exactly what he did, by bringing me.  
  
She didn't remember Transporter Room Three being such an interminably long ride on the turbolift.  
  
* * *  
  
Wes opened his eyes slowly. His head hurt. The lighting was mercifully dim. He slowly lifted his head and glanced around himself. He was sitting upright in a chair. The room was entirely empty.  
  
Except for Kaelha. She was standing in front of him with her arms crossed, looking very angry.  
  
"Wakey, wakey," she said, flatly.  
  
Wes squinted uncomprehendingly at her, still trying to clear his head.  
  
"You've been quite busy, ensign."  
  
"Where's Robin?" Wes croaked. He felt like he was surfacing from beneath murky water, slowly and thickly. He'd never been stunned before, and now that he'd had the experience, he wasn't anxious to repeat it.  
  
"She's still with us."  
  
"Is she all right?"  
  
"She's fine, ensign. I have no reason to harm her as long as you cooperate."  
  
Wes blinked and took a deep breath. Where was he? He swallowed with much effort and looked back at Kaelha. "Can I see her?"  
  
"Of course not."  
  
Wes closed his eyes in a defeatist manner. "I had at least to ask."  
  
"I'm sorry," Kaelha whispered.  
  
Wes opened his eyes, stunned. "What?"  
  
"I'm sorry we had to do it this way. I... I didn't mean to hurt anyone."  
  
Wes cocked an eyebrow, highly confused.  
  
"Ensign," she crouched down in front of him so that she was lower than his eye level, her elbows on her knees. "We need you. Our plans were disrupted because we did not expect to find you aboard the Enterprise. We figured you were at Starfleet Academy."  
  
Wes snorted derisively. "Yeah, I hadn't planned on failing my first and missing my second exam, either."  
  
Kaelha waved him off, "That's neither here nor there. My point is, we had given up. We'd given up as completely as possible, and suddenly you were there."  
  
"You need someone to alter something that happened in the past, something that hurt your crew."  
  
Kaelha exhaled. "Yes."  
  
"But I can't al--"  
  
Kaelha reached up and pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. Wes was stunned again. So far the only physical contact they'd had was him stopping her from striking him. Now there was a different look in her eyes.  
  
"There is another reason why I need you here, ensign. Besides possibly being able to save my entire ship and crew, being a strong asset to my engineering staff, and being a crackerjack helmsman, you are experienced enough in command to be commander of my ship," she spoke softly and almost too close to him.  
  
Wes was silent. He was weary of fighting a losing battle.  
  
"What's wrong?" Kaelha looked nearly sorrowful. "No biting retort? Have I broken your spirit?" Kaelha lifted Wes's lowered chin, raising his downcast eyes. "Where's the fire, the spark... your dedication to Starfleet, your boy-scout personality? Your passion..." she leaned toward him.  
  
Wes jumped up so fast that he toppled the chair and it skidded across the floor behind him. He backed away. This had really never occurred to him. Kaelha rose and pursued him as he slowly retreated.  
  
"Wh-what are you doing?" Wes couldn't remove the look of utter bewilderment from his face.  
  
"What happened to your spirit, Wes Crusher?" Kaelha seemed to ooze femininity, more than any 16-year-old girl should. "Have I changed your mind about your beloved Federation?"  
  
Wes continued his retreat until he felt his back against the wall.  
  
Kaelha's hair was, as usual, tied in a complicated knot at the base of her neck. She reached up and pulled out the tie, freeing an overabundance of shining brown waves that tumbled down her back. She looked up at him with crystal blue eyes. "I would hate to be responsible for the death of such an aggressive and passionate soul." She touched the tip of one finger to the middle of his chest and traced a line down the center of his ribcage, "You're the only one who can save us now."  
  
Wes sidestepped from the wall and started towards the center of the room again, righting the chair, placing it between them, trying to wrap his mind around what was happening.  
  
"We need you, Wes. I need you," she purred, gliding toward the chair. She didn't try to move around it, instead she kneeled up on the seat.  
  
"Then why didn't you just ask?" Wes backed away from the chair again toward the opposite wall, thinking in the back of his mind that this was a very small room.  
  
Kaelha looked heavenward in contemplation. "In retrospect, that might have occurred to me. But as I said, we weren't looking for help. We found you by accident."  
  
"If you weren't looking for help, why did you send a distress call asking for the help of the Enterprise?"  
  
Kaelha caught up when Wes came up against the opposite wall. She placed her palms against the wall on either side of him. He cringed away from her. "Kaelha..."  
  
She looked up at him, waiting to hear the rest of his sentence. "Yes?" she whispered, gazing at him from under lowered eyelids.  
  
"I..." Wes caught his breath. "I don't..."  
  
"You mean 'you've never'?" she breathed, close to his ear.  
  
"I've never..." Wes shook his head. "No! I don't want you standing this close to me." He glared at her.  
  
She looked up at him with doe eyes. "I'm sorry. You're really too young to be comfortable with this, aren't you?"  
  
Wes raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"  
  
"I forgot how naive Humans can be, especially at your age."  
  
Now Wes was insulted. "I'm not putting you off because I'm uncomfortable. I'm putting you off because I don't want you near me, did you consider that?"  
  
She raised her eyebrows. "No, I didn't. I just assumed that because you're so young--"  
  
Wes got angrier. "I'm young? What about you? I must be at least two years older than you."  
  
"Not unless you're fifty-six," Kaelha snapped.  
  
Wes did the math quickly. "You're fifty-four years old?"  
  
Kaelha wore a foot-in-mouth expression, but there was little she could do about it now. Perhaps there was still a way she could turn this to her advantage. By telling the truth. She paced slowly away from Crusher.  
  
"When we were children, our planet, B'Safra, came under attack by a race called the Ylaswa. They had a chemical weapon that could be released into the atmosphere, into water sources, into the soil, into every part of our planet necessary to support life. The toxin had no color or scent. We were a people of little technological advancement and no way of defending ourselves from such an attack. Our people did not even believe that there was life anywhere but on our own planet. This toxin... any adult who breathed, drank or ate any element poisoned by the toxin died instantly. Instantly, mercifully. But something went wrong with the Ylaswaen plan. The children... we did not die. For some reason, anyone under the age of eighteen, anyone still growing, survived. We later found out that we would never age at all, not for all eternity."  
  
She turned to face him, "At first, it was as if we were granted immortality. Some were ecstatic. Later we realized that we would spend eternity as children. Our minds and spirits could grow, but constantly trapped in the body of a child. We cannot grow old. We cannot procreate. We cannot die. It's a curse.  
  
"The Ylaswa occupied our planet, every continent, every nation, every remote corner of our world. We had nowhere to go to escape them. Thousands were killed. The complement of my ship is all that remains of my race.  
  
"At sixteen years old, I watched my parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, neighbors and friends, all die. Every one of us on my ship watched them fall down dead, right where they were, in the middle of working, of playing with their children, of gardening or eating, of relaxing or sleeping, or helping their daughters with the dishes... My father turned on the water to wash a pot I had just cooked in. As soon as he touched the water, he touched the toxin. He knocked over two of our kitchen chairs before falling to the floor, already dead. Panic-stricken, I ran outside to find my mother, who was lying dead in her flower garden, her cold fingers tightened around her watering can. I opened my mouth to scream, but instead heard someone else's scream. The air was a cacophony of children trying to arouse their parents. It... it was devastating."  
  
The emotions were long gone, but Kaelha mustered all she could to play on Wesley's own emotions. Her lower lip trembled and she bowed her head. "And my father," she whispered, "was the most special person in the world to me. As I was to him."  
  
After a long pause, Wesley became uncomfortable with the silence. He cleared his throat and added, "I-- I lost my father, too. When I was nine."  
  
She looked up at him with sky blue eyes full of wisdom and experience, full of sadness and yet bearing a steely edge, then threw her arms around him, whimpering into his shoulder.  
  
Wes didn't know what to do with her. Under normal circumstances, he would have comforted anyone who was crying on him, but what do you do when your captor and enemy starts crying on your shoulder?  
  
"For 38 years... I've been sixteen years old. After a while... your-- your dreams die. It's painful at first, but then you become stronger. You learn not to dream at all."  
  
She released him. "Then," she wiped her eyes, "when I saw you on the Enterprise and read about what you could do for us, and I saw how commanding and impassioned and... and driven you were... I thought maybe you could help me remember how to feel that way again. And maybe you could even allow us to travel back, to alter time, to warn--" she stopped. "And Robin-- she has the strength of spirit and mind to help you. And you were so loyal and dedicated to your captain and your fleet. I admired that. I want to feel like that again. Like I have a dream and a brilliant future. Like you do, Wesley Crusher."  
  
Wes stared at her wordlessly. She had striken almost every one of his heart strings, and he was fighting it as best he could.  
  
"And I can make your future even brighter. I'll help you as best I can, because if you stay, you will have saved me, and my 273 crew members."  
  
"No," Wesley stated in no uncertain terms.  
  
Kaelha was startled that her Oscar-worthy performance had little effect on Crusher. "No?"  
  
"No. You can't just abduct people and then expect them to like you. You've lived fifty-four years, you should know that."  
  
"Wes, please--"  
  
"Don't call me that. Nicknames are for friends to use."  
  
"All right, ensign," Kaelha was all business again, very suddenly. "Then let me put it this way. How much choice do you have?"  
  
Wesley looked her straight in the eyes for a whole fifteen seconds. She did not look away. He closed his eyes and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to will away a stress headache. He slowly walked back over to the chair and sank down into it. After a few moments, he said, very softly, "If I promise to stay, will you release Robin? Will you send her back to the Enterprise?"  
  
"You-- you'd do that for her?" Kaelha was stunned. "You truly care about her, don't you, ensign?"  
  
"Yes. But I'm also a Starfleet officer and will sacrifice my own life to save another officer."  
  
"Well, as long as it's business of the honour and not of the heart." Kaelha sighed. "Admirable. Even incredible, but my answer must still be no."  
  
"Why not?" Wes jumped up, furious, and strode toward her. "I'm all you need, and that telepath of yours can help. You don't need us both! Send her back, and I promise I'll stay. I'll stay and I'll help you as best I can."  
  
"No. Marn isn't strong enough. Apparently, the link doesn't function as well as it should between our races. I need another Human, one who is close with you."  
  
"Where's Robin?" Wes's tones were clipped and angry.  
  
"She's safe, ensign."  
  
"I won't cooperate with you. If you keep us from our home, I'll do everything I can to make your unending life miserable."  
  
"Will you." Kaelha was angry now too.  
  
Wes's voice edged up in anger. "If you keep me from Robin, I'll find her anyway. If you keep us from the Enterprise, they will hunt you night and day until you go crazy from running away. If you hurt Robin, I'll disable your entire ship in a matter of seconds."  
  
Kaelha laughed.  
  
Wes's eyes flashed with fury. "If you kill her--"  
  
Kaelha raised her eyebrows, waiting to hear the end of it.  
  
"--I'll kill you myself."  
  
She smiled. "I'm impressed, ensign. I didn't think you would ever even think about murder, let alone threaten me with--"  
  
"Shut up, I'm not finished."  
  
Kaelha's eyes widened, startled and a little frightened by the Human boy's rage.  
  
"And if it's my attention you want, you'll find a bulkhead more entertaining. I'll thwart your every move, resist your every effort to create a temporal anomaly, fight you at every turn. If you appoint me to a position on your ship, you'd be damning it. I'll contradict your every order, step on your every word, disagree with your every decision. I'd use every privilege given to me to destroy you. You'd prefer your ship to be haunted with poltergeist than to have me aboard." He took another imperious step toward her.  
  
"You're hardly what I'd call a captain. You're weak, vindictive, petty, scattered and you lack all sense of focus, dedication and honor. I can't teach an old dog new tricks, and I doubt my honor would rub off on you. I doubt a Klingon could help you with the concept of honor. So, captain, do you still want me on your ship?" Wes hissed sarcastically.  
  
"Quite," Kaelha answered through tight lips. "That was your last chance, ensign. Now you're a prisoner." She smacked her communicator, "Get in here, we're ready."  
  
Ready?, Wes thought. Ready for what?  
  
He looked up in surprise as the doors swooshed open and five armed guards entered dragging Robin along with them. Two officers seized Wesley's arms and wrenched them behind his back. Wes strained against them. Marn was also there, standing quietly in the background.  
  
"Robin!" Wes yelled to her. "Are you all right?"  
  
"Wes!"  
  
"Shut up!" one officer hissed, pressing the business end of a phaser between Wesley's eyes. Wes sucked in his breath and fell silent.  
  
"Say goodbye to your Enterprise. They'll be leaving us now," Kaelha's voice was vicious.  
  
"They would never leave without us," Robin interrupted. She was answered with a sharp jab in the side with the end of a phaser.  
  
"Oh, you're quite right, girl," Kaelha answered her. "But they won't be leaving without you. At least, they won't think they are."  
  
About two feet in front of Wesley, Wesley appeared.  
  
Wes blinked. His counterpart did likewise.  
  
"No!" Wes struggled to free himself, conscious of the two phasers pointed at him and the two more pointed at Robin. The children didn't seem to be overly anxious to shoot him, but he still couldn't get free.  
  
This was the creature, standing in front of him, imitating him. And it was about to return to the Enterprise as him. An idea formed in Wes's head. Find the fault before it can get to the Enterprise. Make it disappear.  
  
"So you think you're me, huh?" Wes tugged his arms, a futile struggle. "What's my position on the bridge?"  
  
"Helmsman. Conn. Navigator. Flight Controller. Whatever they want to call me, I fly the Enterprise," the creature said proudly.  
  
Wesley glared. "You probably don't even know my middle name."  
  
"My middle name is Richard."  
  
"Who said I'm like Mozart?"  
  
"The Traveler told Captain Picard that I'm like Mozart, almost three years ago."  
  
Wes was surprised to hear that the creature knew that answer. He didn't think it was on record anywhere. He had to continue with his drill.  
  
"What nationality is my mother?"  
  
"Mom's Scottish, but she grew up on Aveda III. She hasn't been back there since before I was born."  
  
Wes fumed. This was his life. Things that supposedly could never be taken from him were being borrowed, used, stolen, broken.  
  
"Oh, and I'm very proud of my own patented invention, the portable tractor beam."  
  
Wes gasped. "I invented that!"  
  
"Easy, boy," one of the guards twisted Wes's arm a little to restrain him.  
  
"Fine." Wes calmed a bit. "You know a lot of facts about me and my life, but what do you know about my personality? You'll never be able to convince the entire crew of the Enterprise, quite a few of whom are my close friends, that you're really me."  
  
"I'm insecure. I'm stubborn. I'm determined beyond most Humans' capacity. I'm practically a genius, but not the coolest guy in school. Curious, but I get myself into trouble easily that way. I'm a workaholic. I've got powerful emotions, but they rarely show. I prattle when I get an idea, leaving behind anyone to whom I'm trying to explain it. Mine is a very aggressive personality. I don't often think before I speak or act -- my mind is too busy with a trillion other things. I've got an unattainable sort of crush on Deanna Troi and a somewhat attainable crush on this young lady here," the creature in Wesley's form gestured to Robin. Wesley's cheeks burned in anger and embarrassment.  
  
"You can't imitate me just by knowing a few secrets," he hissed. "And my mother will certainly never buy it."  
  
"You'd be amazed," the creature said in Wesley's voice, then his form and voice shifted, "what people are willing to believe when they are grief- stricken, Orange."  
  
Wes's knees gave out. The security guards had to support him. "...J- Jaan?" Wes managed.  
  
The creature in Jaan's form laughed. "Oh, it was rich! You should have seen him, blubbering on about how much he missed me and how he was so glad I was alive and my life was fulfilled."  
  
Hot tears burned in Wesley's eyes but they did not fall.  
  
"He was ravaged with guilt and grief, so willing to believe that I was his friend, back from the dead. Imagine! Letting your best friend die, then deluding yourself into believing he was alive again! You were so close to saving me, Orange, you just didn't try hard enough. You were too scattered and desperate. You could have saved my life long before I ever got into trouble. But you just couldn't. You were all around the answer. How truly frustrating."  
  
Wes shook his head vehemently.  
  
"You failed me. You gave up."  
  
"No I didn't," Wes's voice was small.  
  
"In essence, Orange, you were the one who killed me," the creature taunted. Wesley dropped his head, crushed.  
  
"I had such a promising life, and you just couldn't--"  
  
"Stop it!" the voice was Kaelha's. She was glaring at the creature. "That's enough. You're torturing him."  
  
Wes studied the floor. The creature melted back into the form of Wesley, only this time, it bore in its arms a motionless form that looked just like Robin. The real Robin gasped.  
  
"This is the plan, Humans," the creature addressed both Wesley and Robin. "You see, poor Robin hasn't survived." Robin renewed her struggle. Wes was horrified into inaction. The creature stepped nearer to Wesley. "And I only have to imitate you long enough for us to escape. Then, you can die, or I can just tell them the whole truth and disappear. By the time the Humans know what happened, we'll be so long gone they'll never find us."  
  
Wes glared at Kaelha, but she avoided his gaze. He wanted the look in his eyes to remind her that he would carry out his threat of making her existence hell for as long as he could draw breath. But he couldn't get her attention.  
  
"All right, show's over," Kaelha said to the creature. "Go."  
  
The creature in the form of Wesley and Robin disappeared.  
  
Marn moved over to Kaelha and spoke softly to her. "I don't think either Human is any mental condition to attempt time travel at the moment. Perhaps in the morning?"  
  
Kaelha nodded once, then spoke to the guards, "Take them back to their accommodations. Separately."  
  
"No!" Robin shouted.  
  
"Wait!" Wes tried to stop them from dragging Robin away from him again. "Where are you taking her? You can't keep us separated anymore! There's no reason to."  
  
"Take her back to the brig," Kaelha said to the guards.  
  
Wes stomped on the foot of one of the guards and elbowed him in the face. He had him disarmed in a second. Wes grabbed the phaser and brought it around to aim it at his other captor. Before he could, one of the guards holding Robin called to Wesley.  
  
"Hold it right there unless you want one less Human aboard," the guard was holding a phaser set to kill against Robin's head, his other arm wrapped around her neck. Robin's eyes were closed tightly, both hands pulling down on the arm around her neck, knees bent, back arched. Obviously the guard's grip was tight.  
  
Wes lowered his phaser. He slowly and subtly switched on the safety with his thumb and let the phaser fall to the floor. He noticed that one of the guards that had been holding Robin lay unconscious on the floor, blood dripping from his nose.  
  
Wes watched as the guard turned the phaser down to stun and pressed it against Robin's head again.  
  
"No!" Wes screamed and dove towards her. Quickly, the guard Wes had disarmed picked up the phaser set to kill and fired it right at Wesley's back. It didn't go off. The officer cursed as he fumbled with the safety switch.  
  
The guard holding Robin at phaser point whipped his phaser around and fired the stun setting at Wes. The beam lanced out and struck him in the chest. His head snapped back in pain and he fell to the ground. Kaelha sank to her knees beside him to make sure he was only unconscious.  
  
"Wesley!!!" Robin screamed and pulled against the arm around her neck. She flipped the guard over her shoulder and he crashed to the floor. She started toward Wes when another phaser beam struck her and she landed near him on the floor, motionless.  
  
Kaelha pointed her finger as if it were a deadly weapon at the officer who's just finished fixing his phaser, the one on which Wes had set the safety, the one that had just taken down Robin, and bellowed, "What setting is your phaser on, lieutenant?"  
  
"Stun, sir!" the lieutenant answered, frightened.  
  
"Lucky you," Kaelha seethed. "If either of these Humans die, the killer's life will be the cost."  
  
"Yes, sir!" the lieutenant answered.  
  
"Why must you keep stunning them?" she addressed her guards from her kneeling spot next to Wesley. Her hand was under his head, as if she were in some way helping him.  
  
"It was the only way to keep them from escaping, sir," one boy answered.  
  
"Five armed and trained security officers can't restrain one boy and one girl in a locked room without rendering them unconscious?" then Kaelha's gaze fell upon the guard Robin had knocked out, just now stirring, and she amended her question. "Four security officers."  
  
"With all the respect due you, sir, the girl is expertly trained in security, and the boy is somewhat trained. And they have the advantage of desperation on their side."  
  
"Inexcusable," Kaelha shook her head. "They are not to be stunned anymore. They're here because we need them, not simply as hostages. Am I perfectly understood?"  
  
"Yes, sir," all four standing officers answered at once.  
  
One guard leaned over and whispered to his fellow officer, "I don't understand why we are abandoning our plan all of a sudden. If we want to get back on track, we should kill them now. That would get the Enterprise's attention."  
  
"There is a difference between casualties of war and execution. Would you go to your death with the mark of a murder on your soul, lieutenant?" Kaelha's voice was sharp.  
  
"N-no, sir."  
  
"Then leave it that our plan has changed. We are no longer picking a fight with the Enterprise. Now while there's hope in these Humans. Am I understood?"  
  
"Yes, sir." 


	23. Chapter TwentyTwo

Chapter 22  
  
The alien could not interfere. He wished he could, it was difficult to watch the boy be harmed without protecting him, but he knew that, like a parent, protecting a child from all harm can be harmful in and of itself.  
  
A parent must stand and watch their child learn to ride a bicycle, watch the wheels begin to wobble, and see their child fall to the ground. But if the parent always held on to the seat of the bicycle, the child would never learn to ride on his own.  
  
So he watched, forcing his faith in the boy, forcing himself to have confidence in the boy's ability to extricate himself from this situation.  
  
* * *  
  
Beverly prayed as she and Picard approached the transporter room door. It hissed open and they walked in. O'Brien was studying the captain.  
  
"Energize, Chief."  
  
In a matter of three seconds, "Wes" was standing on the transporter platform with "Robin" in his arms. He collapsed to his knees and lowered Robin to the transporter pad.  
  
For a second, both Picard and Doctor Crusher stood horrified. A young girl with a promising career lay apparently dead before them.  
  
Beverly rushed to them bearing a tricorder. Before she scanned them, she swept the creature into her arms and clung tightly to it. It leaned against her, feigning relief and choking back a sob.  
  
"Wesley, my god," Beverly whispered into its shoulder, "I thought you were dead..."  
  
Picard knelt down beside Robin and touched her neck where there should have been a pulse. He found none. He closed his eyes and lowered his head, letting all his air out. He had just lost a junior officer under his command.  
  
Beverly was unfolding a tricorder to scan Wesley, but he directed her attention to Robin, knowing the missing readings of a dead person would be easier to explain than those of a living person.  
  
She scanned Robin's still form. Nothing. Not the readings of a deceased person, but no readings at all. The readings one would get if one had scanned an empty transporter pad. Her brow furrowed in confusion.  
  
"Doctor?" Picard prompted.  
  
"I'm not getting anything at all, Captain. It's like she's not here," Beverly touched her to make sure the girl really was there.  
  
"They... they did something to her..." Wes volunteered, lower lip trembling.  
  
Picard asked, "Did what, ensign?"  
  
"I... I don't know..." the creature couldn't think of anything in the universe that could cause a living or deceased being to appear on a tricorder as being non-existent. "They... needed us to try to do what... what the Traveler does... and... it weakened us... she... she collapsed, but she was alive. They... they took her away, and it was the last time I saw her alive."  
  
"Let me scan you and see if--"  
  
"NO!!" the creature shouted and backed away from the object.  
  
Beverly was taken aback. She glanced at her captain Her eyes seemed to ask, What have they done to my son?  
  
She tapped her communicator, "Crusher to sickbay. Direct beaming Ensign Robin Wallace to Biobed C. Chief?" Chief O'Brien began the process of transport.  
  
Robin's form dissipated in the twinkling glow of a transporter beam. Wesley broke down upon her disappearance.  
  
Beverly embraced him, held on to him as she waited for report of a patient on Biobed C. None came.  
  
"Sickbay, report," she called.  
  
"We're waiting for transport, Doctor," a med officer replied.  
  
"We /transported/," she stood, looking at O'Brien for confirmation.  
  
"I show that we transported, destination Sickbay Biobed C, successfully."  
  
"Well, there's no one here," sickbay reported.  
  
"What could have happened to her?" Picard asked everyone and no one. "Chief, I want a full diagnostic run on that transporter," he jabbed an index finger at it, "I want an answer on what happened to my officer."  
  
"Sir," O'Brien said, "this same thing happened yesterday, when the team went over to the Neverland in the first place. The Selelvian left here, but never arrived on the starcruiser. He just... disappeared."  
  
"Selelvian?"  
  
"Jaan, sir," the creature volunteered, softly. "We were made to believe he was alive and here. But it wasn't Jaan. Jaan's dead. That was the creature."  
  
"Then it's possible," Picard surmised, "that was not Robin at all, but the creature. It's possible that she is not dead, but still aboard the Neverland."  
  
The creature inwardly cursed. The Humans kept figuring things out. All it wanted was the Humans to go away and leave its children alone.  
  
"Sir," O'Brien said, "I'll compare the two occurrences and look for parallels if you like."  
  
"Make it so, Chief."  
  
"I'm going down to sickbay. Wes, come with me," Beverly walked toward the door and waited for her son.  
  
"Mom, could I... I just need to... to be alone, and... rest for a little while. Would that be okay?"  
  
"I should run some basic tests, Wes, we don't know if you're all right yet or not."  
  
"I'm... I'm fine, Mom," he sighed. "I just need to lie down and sleep. I just... I just want to lie down."  
  
"You can lie down in sickbay," she volunteered, eyebrows drawn up in concern.  
  
"No. I... I want to feel like I have my freedom back for a little bit. I want to close a door, and know that I can open it and walk out whenever I want, and that no one will open it and come in. I want to lie down and know that I won't be dragged from sleep to try to rip a hole in time. I want to close my eyes and pretend it's not my fault Robin's dead."  
  
"Wesley," Picard walked to him and put his hands on his shoulders, "whatever happened while you were being held," he shook his head, "was not your fault. You could not prevent anything that happened any better than you did. And I for one am not giving up the hope that Ensign Wallace is still alive somewhere. Not yet."  
  
Wesley sighed, unable to meet his captain's eyes. "That's nice of you, sir, but I know she's gone. I know it."  
  
Picard took his hands off Wes's shoulders and glanced at Doctor Crusher.  
  
"How about we compromise, Wes?" Beverly smiled comfortingly. "You go lie down while I go get a report from sickbay. I'll come up to you in a little bit, then maybe you'll be feeling up to coming to sickbay with me. With your permission of course, captain," Beverly looked at Picard.  
  
"Yes, of course, doctor. And as soon as the doctor is through, ensign, I want a full report. We'll need it as quickly as possible if we're to find out about Ensign Wallace."  
  
"Aye, sir."  
  
As Picard watched the Crushers leave, he couldn't shake the feeling that something just wasn't right. Ensign Wallace's body was now missing, if that was her body at all. Wesley didn't seem himself, quite, but he supposed that was because the ensign had brought home the body of a friend.  
  
And Picard knew exactly how that felt.  
  
There were some strange things going on and Picard knew only one person who might be able to offer some advice and perhaps some help.  
  
* * *  
  
Guinan's entire expression changed the moment Picard entered Ten- Forward. She knew he wasn't here to have a drink or to chat. She had been feeling the creature's presence on the ship again and had been trying to get in touch with Picard about it. She had gone to a wall commlink and located him, then called him. He'd said he was just coming to see her. Something was very wrong.  
  
Picard folded his arms on the bar and leaned forward to speak in confidential tones to her. "Have you felt that... presence again, Guinan?"  
  
"Actually, Jean-Luc, that's what I was calling you about. I began feeling it just about ten minutes ago."  
  
"When Ensign Wallace beamed aboard. About ten minutes ago, we received a request to receive Wesley and Robin back. But Robin did not make it back alive," Picard's voice softened.  
  
Guinan covered her mouth with her hand, shocked.  
  
"At least, it appears that way. But Robin's body did not register as existing when scanned with a tricorder, and when we transported her to sickbay, she disappeared altogether. Guinan, could it be possible that Mister Crusher was made to believe Ensign Wallace was dead, and he brought back the creature rather than her body?"  
  
"I'd say it's a strong possibility. I sensed the creature's presence at the same time you say they were transported back here. But, if the body of Robin Wallace is gone, why do I still sense the presence?"  
  
"You sense it now?"  
  
"Yes. If it was the creature that beamed aboard with Wesley, it's still here."  
  
"Still here? But where could it have gone?"  
  
"I wish I knew." 


	24. Chapter TwentyThree

A/N: Mea culpa! Life got in the way, but here now is the rest of the story. It goes to Chapter 27, which, I'm praying, I'll post by the end of the afternoon! Wish me luck...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter 23  
  
The door to Wesley Crusher's bedroom hissed open and Beverly Crusher stepped through. The creature was lying on Wes's bed, an arm draped across its eyes to block out all light.  
  
"Wes?" she whispered.  
  
It moved the arm over its eyes up to its forehead and squinted at the person who'd interrupted its sleep.  
  
Oh no. The doctor again.  
  
"Hi, Mom," it said weakly.  
  
Beverly sat down on the edge of his bed. She was not wearing a labcoat, therefore, mercifully, she did not have a tricorder in her pocket.  
  
"Are you okay?" she asked, touching its forehead and cheeks. It felt normal, no fever.  
  
"Fine, Mom."  
  
"You know, the captain believes that Robin isn't dead."  
  
"I know, but he's wrong. I wish he were right. I saw her collapse."  
  
"Wesley, for all you know, she could have fainted. A disrupter typically... doesn't leave a body." Beverly's eyes gleamed with hope. "Guinan felt the creature again."  
  
The creature sat up. "She did? When?"  
  
"When you beamed aboard. We're fairly certain that wasn't Robin at all. The only problem is, Wes, the creature's still here."  
  
The creature felt a small wave of ice cold panic, then let it go. For a moment, it was afraid she knew it was the creature she was speaking to. "Where?"  
  
"We don't know. It hasn't appeared to anyone yet."  
  
You don't say, it thought wryly.  
  
Beverly continued, "But the children could have lead you to believe that Robin was dead and sent you back here with the creature. That's why she didn't show up on my tricorder and that's why we couldn't transport her," Beverly thumped her open palm on Wesley's bed for emphasis.  
  
"Then Robin's not dead?"  
  
"I don't believe so, no." Beverly's tone lowered, "What happened over on the Neverland? Wes, it's imperative you tell me everything."  
  
Great. "They didn't keep us together. I don't know what happened to her. With me, they took me to some quarters and locked me in there. I tried to escape and they stunned me with a phaser. I was out for hours, much longer than I should have been out. When I woke up, they made me and Robin try to rip a hole in time to change the past for some reason. They had a telepath who helped, created like a Vulcan Mind Melt sort of thing between us. But it didn't work. They stunned us both again and next thing I knew, they told me we were going back. ...and then they handed me Robin's body.  
  
"But now, if it wasn't Robin's body, then she's still over there! I've got to get to the bridge!"  
  
The creature jumped to its feet. Since they had figured its plan out, its next best plan would be to get itself onto the bridge of this ship, where it could do a little damage.  
  
But the creature felt like the living dead. It was so tired and dizzy and disoriented, as if it had contracted what Humans got from time to time: the flu. It didn't understand why it wasn't allowed to just blow up the entire ship and be done with it!  
  
Beverly followed it out to the frontroom. "Wes, I don't think you're in any condition to be involved in this--"  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"Captain Picard can handle this."  
  
"Not without me."  
  
"Wesley!" Beverly snagged the creature by the back of the shirt. "Sit down!" she lead it back to the sofa. "You're not going anywhere until I come back with a tricorder and a hypo. Understood?"  
  
"But--"  
  
"Ensign Crusher, that is an order from the Chief Medical Officer! Now, am I understood?"  
  
"Understood," the creature sighed.  
  
Beverly nodded in satisfaction, then left. Not three seconds later the creature left, headed for the bridge.  
  
* * *  
  
"Captain?" the creature stood at the lower edge of the aft ramp, awaiting permission to take its post. "I can help now. I want to take my post."  
  
Billy Nolan stood up and stepped away from the Conn a little too quickly. Picard stared at Crusher for a long moment.  
  
"Has Doctor Crusher seen to you?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Another long pause. "All right, then. Mister Nolan, relinquish Conn to--" Picard noticed that Ensign Nolan was already up and at aft engineering. By the time Picard turned back around to face front, Wesley was in his chair at Conn and punching away at the console.  
  
Youth.  
  
Then Wesley paused in his routine checks and sighed.  
  
"Mister Crusher? Are you quite all right?"  
  
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir."  
  
Picard waited a moment, then nodded to himself. "I need that report from you now, ensign, but first... We're going to play a bit of Hide and Seek. We'll do a quick warp jump, not out of sensor range, just far enough for them to think we're evading them. Then we'll see what they do. If they begin to leave, we'll follow at a distance. If they stay, we'll wait for them to drop shields and we'll scan for Ensign Wallace's life signs. A ship that large, shields have to be a huge strain on their energy. Mister Data?"  
  
"I have found a planet with enough electromagnetic instability to cloak our presence, captain. If we place the Enterprise near enough to or behind this planet, I do not believe the Neverland would be able to detect our presence."  
  
"Mister Crusher, do you see the planet to which Mister Data refers?"  
  
"Yes, sir." Feeling a little dizzy...  
  
"Very well. Set a course, ensign."  
  
The creature tabbed at the console, then sat still, waiting.  
  
"Mister Crusher?"  
  
"Yes, sir?"  
  
"Is the course laid in?"  
  
"Oh, um... yes, sir."  
  
"When were you going to tell me about it?"  
  
"Sorry, sir. Course laid in. Sir." The creature initiated the course.  
  
"All stop, Mister Data," Picard said hastily. Then he turned back to the creature and blinked, almost disbelieving what was happening. "You may recall, Mister Crusher, that it is customary for me to give the command before you engage our engines."  
  
Billy Nolan could be heard smothering a snicker from the aft engineering station of the bridge, and Worf fixed him with a paralyzing glare.  
  
"I'm sorry, sir?" the creature hadn't seemed to have heard. It was so difficult to concentrate, everything was so confusing, and everyone sounded so far away and unreal.  
  
"Mister Nolan, take the Conn from Mister Crusher," Picard ordered. The creature rose slowly and allowed Billy Nolan to take its place at the Helm.  
  
"Now I know there's something wrong," Picard stood up. "That's the first time I've ever seen you willingly give up the Helm, Mister Crusher."  
  
"I guess..." the creature stood on unsteady feet, "I'm not feeling... too well, sir..."  
  
Its knees suddenly buckled and it fainted, landing on the floor between Conn and Ops.  
  
Picard and Troi rushed to the creature's side.  
  
* * *  
  
Wesley awoke in tiny quarters aboard the Neverland. The only thing in the room was the bed he was lying on. The only light was from the starfield. At least he had a window.  
  
He sat up and instantly gripped his forehead with his right hand. There was that incredible post-stun headache again. Squinting against the pain, he stood and walked to the window to search for a glimpse of the Enterprise. He saw nothing but stars and space. Could they really have fallen for the creature's sketchy (at best) imitation of himself? How long before they realized they were still missing? How long would they still be missing? And he couldn't help but wonder why the Neverland hadn't fired on the Enterprise yet. There must be something they still need from them.  
  
"Computer."  
  
Nothing. Well, it was worth the try. There were no panels anywhere. After almost three solid minutes with no ideas for escape, Wes decided to try to pry the doors open with his bare hands. Not that expected to succeed, but he had to try something. He reached his hands out to the door and a forcefield sparkled and zapped him.  
  
"Ow!" he clutched his hands together, trying to nullify the electric- like shock, and staggered back from the door. This could quickly drive me crazy, he thought, I can't even try what I know won't work.  
  
Well, they couldn't keep him in here forever. But until they came for him, there was nothing he could do.  
  
He lay on the bed thinking. He wasn't exactly planning anything, but he couldn't stop his mind. He thought about his mother, about Captain Picard, the Academy, and Robin... He thought about Robin for a long time, and it inevitably led him back to the fact that she was imprisoned beyond his ability to help her, and that thought was depressing.  
  
The doors slid open.  
  
Wes leaped to his feet. It was Kaelha. The doors closed instantly behind her.  
  
"How much longer are you going to keep me here?" he demanded.  
  
"By 'here,' do you mean in this room or on this ship?"  
  
"I'm currently accepting answers for both."  
  
"You'll be here in this room until the morning, when we'll try your parlor trick again."  
  
Wes's sigh was more of a growl. "I'm getting bored with this. It's pointless. Pointless and futile. I want out of this place, with Robin, now." Wes was almost at the point of violence, but his mind realized that he couldn't fight his way past her with the doors closed again. He'd just be stuck in a room with a hurt and angry hostile enemy.  
  
"I don't think I've made myself clear. You don't get to leave. You don't get to see your friend. You don't get to play with the computer. You're stuck here."  
  
"You don't think I'll succeed any more than I do."  
  
"No, ensign, I do believe you'll succeed. I must believe that."  
  
"So then you're only believing it because you want it to be true!" Wesley calmed himself. "Why did you bring me here, Kaelha?"  
  
Kaelha sighed. She turned her back to him and slowly paced the room. "Look at me. I'm a fifty-four year old woman literally trapped in a sixteen year old body. I'll be this way forever. Forever, ensign. Can you imagine? There's nothing for me to look forward to anymore. There's nothing for me to work towards, nowhere to go, no goals that are achievable. I'm not happy anymore. I haven't been for a long while. None of us really are."  
  
"Which part refers to why I'm here?" he wasn't falling for the pity routine again.  
  
"All of it. We had no idea you'd be on the Enterprise. We only wanted them to--" she caught herself. Wes raised an eyebrow. Whatever information she didn't give could be important to him. He'd have to find it out sooner or later. Kaelha continued, "Anyway, you gave us new hope. We thought you had the power to change what had happened. To save us from this fate."  
  
"I'm sorry to disappoint you."  
  
"You haven't yet. I haven't given up. I can't give up yet. Besides..." Kaelha lowered her eyes.  
  
Wes waited for her to continue, but when she didn't, he prompted her. "Besides what?"  
  
"I used to be like you. Young and starry-eyed, ready to go where no one had gone before, just for the sake of doing it. I had goals, dreams, and I was passionate about them. I had a long and promising future and I was anxious for it to begin. Of all these things that have died in me, I mourn hope the most."  
  
"And?"  
  
"I... I don't know. I guess it's just that... I thought that I could be like you again, like I used to be. I thought that would make me happy."  
  
"Hmph," Wes folded his arms across his chest, waiting for a better reason.  
  
"Generally, my race is fairly long-lived. In your measure of time, we'd live to be about 175 years old. Except now, we'll live forever with nothing to live for. We can marry, but we can't procreate -- the contaminants took that ability from us, too. And that's what it's all for, isn't it? A better world for our children? Eternal youth, huh. People are always looking for it, but believe me they're lucky they never get it. I... I know it sounds silly, but..." Kaelha smiled shyly, "but the biggest part of my dream was to have children, to create life and help it grow." She looked up at him. "Briyen. He's fifteen. He's about the age of a son I might have now, if I were able to."  
  
"How old is Briyen?" Wes asked softly.  
  
"Fifteen," Kaelha repeated without heat.  
  
"No, I mean how old is he really?" Wes added it up quickly in his head. "Fifty-two?"  
  
"He's really fifteen. He's a Human. He wasn't there when all this happened to us."  
  
"But... he's your first officer," Wes continued.  
  
Kaelha looked meaningfully at him. "For the same reason you would have been my first officer."  
  
Wesley's eyebrows went up in surprise. "You kidnapped him?"  
  
Kaelha laughed. "No. I saved him. He doesn't have a ship or a crew or a captain or a family or home. He was a prisoner on a Ferengi ship. He was more than happy to escape and be with someone who loved him."  
  
"But you didn't love him. You don't love him, do you?"  
  
Kaelha turned away again.  
  
"You're just trying to put meaning back into your life."  
  
"Is that so wrong?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"What's wrong with saving someone and giving them a home, a job, friends?"  
  
"Has he ever been allowed to leave the ship?"  
  
"He doesn't want to."  
  
"Has he ever asked to leave the ship?"  
  
Kaelha sighed and shook her head. "He was only twelve when we found him. He wanted to strike out on his own, but he never would have survived. He was just a child. But he realizes that now. He has nowhere else to go."  
  
"That's ridiculous. He has thousands of options." Wesley's voice was getting louder and louder. He advanced on her a couple of steps and she was getting defensive. "If he thinks he has nowhere else to go, it's because you've scared him so badly that he thinks he has no choice. Did you ever ask him where he's been before here? Maybe he's survived on his own for years! Did you ever think that? Maybe he thinks his only choices are to be miserable here or even more miserable somewhere else!"  
  
"Being here with me is not miserable!"  
  
"I'm sure it wouldn't be if you would just allow people to be with you rather than forcing them to stay."  
  
"I don't force people to do anything!"  
  
Wes's eyes narrowed in disbelief and he held out his arms as if to ask, then what am I doing here?  
  
"Well, except for you and Robin, but there's a good reason for that, and I've explained it countless times."  
  
"You don't think Briyen feels forced to stay here?"  
  
"No! Briyen thinks he's as much of a survivor as I am, but he forgets that I'm almost four times his age. He thinks that if I can do it, he can do it. But that's not true."  
  
"You have people aboard who are fourteen, thirteen, twelve. They were that age when this tragedy happened to your planet. They survived! Why is Briyen any less?"  
  
"Because without me, he's alone! He can't survive alone! For his own sake, I had to make him realize that."  
  
"You mean you broke his spirit. You tormented him into submission."  
  
Kaelha slapped him. Hard. His head snapped to the right and his cheek stung.  
  
He turned his head back to glare at her. She could see her handprint on his face even in the dim lighting. She began to feel remorse for striking him, then brushed those feelings aside. He had pushed her too far.  
  
But she couldn't help but know that she had pushed him way too far as well. There was fire in his eyes and he wasn't exhaling.  
  
Wes spoke slowly, trying not to explode with rage. "In years on the Enterprise, I've encountered hundreds of races, races that kill because they're curious about death, races that toy with us for amusement, races that believe fighting is the only way to solve things, races that carry feuds for hundreds of years until they've forgotten the reason for it. Even races that torture and torment people just because they're different. But you-- you know better, and you torture people anyway. You are the most malicious, self-absorbed, uncaring creature I've ever met."  
  
"Am I?" there was a dare in her voice. "Only a fool would be injured by your words," she said, almost as if she were trying to convince herself.  
  
Wes clenched and released his fists, almost frightening himself with his desire to strike this girl. Seeing his fury, Kaelha took a step back, startled. She touched her comm badge. "Security."  
  
Good, let her call them here, he thought. At least then I won't be alone with her anymore.  
  
Kaelha ran her fingers into her hair and mussed it up. She untucked one corner of her uniform top and tore the seam at her shoulder. She even stretched out the neckline.  
  
Wesley stood gaping at her, baffled. What is she doing? It looks like she's been attacked or something--  
  
Oh my god, she's going to--  
  
Two armed security officers rushed in went straight to Kaehla, whose demeanour had changed completely.  
  
"H-he... He tried to... to...." she whimpered, breathless.  
  
"WHAT!" Wesley gasped.  
  
"I couldn't stop him... he's... he's too strong," Kaelha had a distinctly pitiful look on her face.  
  
"I didn't touch her!" Wes struggled in vain to pull free from the guard trying to bind his hands behind his back.  
  
"And I suppose she did this to herself," one guard mocked.  
  
"She did!" he argued, aware of how ridiculous it sounded. If they even bothered to question the exact occurrences, no one was going to check the evidence against a prisoner to accuse their captain.  
  
"Sure," the guard sounded bored, "and I've got a tribble in my pocket."  
  
"It wouldn't shock me," Wes muttered as they shoved him into the corridor. He didn't even bother to struggle anymore. His hands were locked behind his back and he was being prodded forward at every other step. Well, at least in the brig I'll be a little closer to Robin.  
  
* * *  
  
"How long has he been like this?" Beverly ran to her son, who was lying on the floor of the bridge between Conn and Ops. She skidded to her knees beside him and opened a tricorder.  
  
"Just a few minutes," Riker answered. Riker had turned the boy flat on his back so he could breathe properly, and done what he could to make sure he was all right until Doctor Crusher could get here. Which really wasn't much. This wasn't a normal faint. His pulse and heart rate were perfectly normal, as was his breathing. All these should be slower in an unconscious person. And he was neither pale nor flushed. This was more like a trance than a swoon.  
  
She sighed and shook her head as she programmed her tricorder. "I told him to stay put until I could get back to him with some med equipment. He hasn't let me look at him yet."  
  
Picard blinked. "He told me you had." Wesley Crusher had never lied to him before.  
  
Beverly scanned him up and down as Picard and Riker took a step back to give her room. She looked puzzled and shook the tricorder, then flipped it closed for a moment.  
  
"Wes?" she shook his shoulders. No response. She held her wrist against his forehead. Body temperature was normal. "Wes, can you hear me?" She pressed two fingers against his neck and gasped in fear.  
  
She looked up at the captain. "I'm not getting a pulse." She checked at his wrist and his heart. No beating at all.  
  
"Not even on the tricorder?" the captain asked.  
  
"The tricorder shows nothing," she flipped it open and scanned him once more.  
  
"No vital signs?" the captain was dreading pronouncing the boy dead.  
  
"Nothing at all. Like he's not even here. It's the same as when we scanned Robin..." Beverly suddenly realized what was going on here. This was not her son.  
  
"The creature," Riker muttered.  
  
The form of Wesley Crusher flickered and faded from existence.  
  
Picard was instantaneous action. "Mister Nolan, take us back to the Neverland. Mister Worf, begin hailing them as soon as we're in range. Call me when you get an answer." Picard strode into his ready room. He wasn't able to face Beverly just now. He had plans to make, problems to solve. He could deal with emotions later. By then, hopefully his two junior officers would be back, and there would be no need to deal with emotions.  
  
Beverly finally stood, aware that Will Riker had not moved and was still staring at her. His eyes would follow her, making certain she was all right, until she was no longer visible. She hastened her exit, walking with as much purpose as she could muster, to more quickly relieve the need for Riker's continued attention. The turbolift doors hissed closed.  
  
Riker turned and sat down, unable to take a deep breath just yet.  
  
* * *  
  
The security guards released Wes's hands and flung him onto the floor of the darkened cell. They raised the forcefield and left.  
  
With the sound of his impact on the floor, something moved inside the cell. Apprehensive, Wes pulled himself slowly up to his knees. Robin had just jumped off the bed and dropped to her knees beside him.  
  
"Wes!" she cried and flung her arms around his neck. For a moment, they just clung to each other. When they finally released each other, Wesley was still gripping both her hands. A little too tightly, but she didn't care.  
  
"I was so afraid they were going to kill you-- What did they do to you?" his eyebrows drew up in concern as he inspected her quickly for damage.  
  
"Well, nothing, really. Stunned me a couple of times when I tried to escape -- once in Engineering, and once in that room with you. But nothing more than that."  
  
"Yeah, they're a little trigger-happy with the stun setting. Where have you been?"  
  
"Here. As soon as they took me from the transporter room, I escaped. I found a Jefferies tube and Main Engineering. Boy, was I in the wrong place! But they caught up with me and put me in here. And the only time they brought me out was a few hours ago when they sent the creature back to the Enterprise as us. What about you, do you know anything? Where's our ship? Do they really think those things are us?"  
  
"I don't know. I woke up in bare quarters. Couldn't even get the computer to bring up the lights. From the direction I was facing, I couldn't see the Enterprise out the window, but I was facing kind of forward and I would assume they were behind us."  
  
"Quarters?" Robin gaped. "Windows? How come you're getting the ambassador treatment?"  
  
He shrugged. "Maybe because they think I can alter their past and give them a better future."  
  
"Can you?"  
  
"No!" Wes said, a bit more loudly than he'd intended. "Come on, Robin, not you too!"  
  
"I know, but I had to check. One can never be too sure of your limitations, Wes Crusher, if you have any at all," she joked.  
  
"And I could be wrong, because I'm clueless about this stuff, but," Wes hesitated and grimaced. "I guess Kaelha sort of... likes me or something."  
  
"Yeah? Well the line forms to the left, behind me," her smirk curled up one corner of her mouth.  
  
Wes didn't smile back. For a long moment he studied all the feelings of which Robin's expression spoke: the anger and fear, concern and hope. Then he quickly hugged her, holding her tight. He whispered, "I got you into this, and I promise I'll get you out."  
  
"Just tell me one thing," she whispered back. "Does this sort of thing happen to you all the time?"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Responses to Reviews:  
  
DB: Just when I thought you couldn't get any more effusively appreciative! Thanks, wow. er, I don't know how to respond to that!  
  
Kristy Marie: Thanks again, hopefully it keeps up with the expectations!  
  
DB: Sorry to have gotten you in trouble in the computer lab!  
  
Kellyc: Merci!  
  
Snowy1909: Thank you! You're rather eloquent yourself ;) Overall, I'm very glad I managed to hook a few people, despite the Wesleycentric plot, which, so far, has avoided alt.wesley.crusher.die.die.die flames... *crosses fingers, pets visiting plot bunny* 


	25. Chapter TwentyFour

A/N: Here, credit must be given to an actor/bartender in Las Vegas as the attraction "Star Trek: The Experience" who waited on us in Ten Forward and asked that his character, Vlarg, be included in my book. He gave me his character's name written on my cocktail napkin. Shortly thereafter, Paramount ceased accepting non-commissioned submissions for ST:TNG, so this is the only credit that poor man will get. Cheers, "Vlarg"! And remember the Rule of Acquisition number 127: Never begin business negotiations on an empty stomach.  
  
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Chapter 24  
  
Picard sat alone in his ready room. Thoughts were whirling around in his head that had nothing to do with his current predicament. He needed sleep badly. So did his entire crew, for that matter. No one was moving at top performance at this hour. They'd been dealing with this new problem for more than two days. Fifty hours ago was their first communication with the Neverland. Wesley and Robin had been aboard that ship for just over 21 hours.  
  
The ever-realistic Picard was daydreaming of traveling back in time to just before all this began, back to when he and his top-ranking officers were having a drink in Ten-Forward. He fantasized about hearing the distress call, but turning around and going in the opposite direction as quickly as their nacelles could carry them. Where was a temporal anomaly when you needed one?  
  
He stood and walked to his window. Staring out, he watched stars whistle past at warp nine. He drew a long breath.  
  
"Jean-Luc."  
  
Picard spun around. Jack Crusher was standing there.  
  
He tapped his communicator, "Security, Ready Room." Nothing happened. Oh, of course not. Picard was more irritated than frightened. "You are not Jack Crusher and I'm quite aware of that. You needn't try to fool me, it won't work."  
  
"I'm not trying to fool you. I'm trying to get rid of you."  
  
"What a coincidence," Picard muttered.  
  
"Why won't you go away?" the creature sounded genuinely curious.  
  
"You are holding my officers. I won't leave without them."  
  
"I'm tiring of hearing that. You've got over a thousand people on this ship. We took two. Stop being so selfish."  
  
"People are not a commodity! You cannot take two and expect we won't miss them."  
  
"Leave us alone," the creature approached. Picard stood his ground.  
  
"I want my officers back, or so help me, I'll have the whole of Starfleet upon you."  
  
"If that were true, they'd be here already." The creature had a point. Picard could have Starfleet upon them, but it would take at least another six hours for the first ship to get here. The Hood and the Geneseo were on their way.  
  
The creature stepped around Picard's desk. Picard didn't retreat. He was now nose to nose with his dead best friend.  
  
"You killed me, Jean-Luc."  
  
"I did not kill Jack Crusher and you are not Jack Crusher."  
  
"You left me to die. You knew it would be dangerous, you knew I could be killed, but you let me go anyway."  
  
Picard was silent. He tried to take a step toward the door of his ready room, but the creature blocked his path.  
  
"You took me from my wife and son. You took my life away from me. And as quickly as anything, you have another first officer again. I could kill Will Riker, do you know that? It would be the easiest thing in the universe. I could snap my fingers right now and he'd be gone," the creature snapped.  
  
With lightning reflexes, Picard grabbed the creature's wrist. The creature laughed. "Relax, Jean-Luc. I said I could, but I didn't." The creature yanked its arm away easily.  
  
"You don't understand me, Jean-Luc. You were my best friend, but you don't understand me. You took my life, but you don't stop taking. Now you want my son, you want my son back. What if I want him? He is mine, after all. And you want my wife. Yes, I know it's true. You feel something every time you look at her. You don't know what it is, but I do, Picard. I know it, because I feel it when I look at her too. You killed me, then took my wife and son. I don't know of anything lower."  
  
"Oh, no? What about tricking a mother into believing her son is back safely in her arms?" Picard stood still while the creature circled him, looking him up and down. Picard's jaw tensed and released, his eyes narrowed. He realized that he was at a stiff attention and he felt like a Starfleet Academy cadet being dressed down by his commanding officer.  
  
"And besides that, you're a lousy captain," the creature didn't acknowledge the captain's words. "You can't even get back your own two crew members who are sitting on that ship, practically right outside your window. But they're ours. Yes, they're still alive, are you surprised? Both of them." The creature came around to face Picard again. "Which is more than I can say for you."  
  
* * *  
  
Guinan stood at a wall comm unit trying unsuccessfully to page the captain and tell him that she had that feeling again. For some reason, communication to the captain was going unrecognized. She shook her head and tried Commander Riker.  
  
* * *  
  
In one quick motion, the creature wound back its right arm and landed a fist right in Picard's face. Picard went down. The creature was on top of him in an instant. Picard pulled his knees up to his chest, planted his feet in the center of the creature's stomach and hurled "Jack" over his head. Picard leaped up and vaulted over his desk, running for the door. It wouldn't open. The creature was up and coming at him. Picard stepped away from the wall, giving himself some fighting room. "Jack" threw a punch and Picard dodged. Then the creature ran straight at him, driving its shoulder into Picard's stomach, smashing the captain up against the ready room doors. Picard cried out.  
  
* * *  
  
Riker had just finished speaking on a commlink with Guinan when he heard a thump from inside the captain's ready room. "The creature..." he breathed. He jumped out of his seat and headed for the ready room door, but it didn't open for him. He tried the keypad with similar results.  
  
"Computer! Open this door!" It was as if the computer hadn't heard him. "Data, Worf," Riker gestured to the doors. The Klingon and the android pried open the doors in a matter of seconds.  
  
Riker ran in just in time to see Picard land a punch to... apparently to Jack Crusher's face, and Jack connect a backfist to the side of Picard's head. Picard reeled and fell onto his couch.  
  
"Hold it!" Riker shouted. "Jack" suddenly realized it was surrounded by people. Worf pointed a phaser at it, though he wasn't sure what good it would do.  
  
The creature seemed to decide this was over for now, and disappeared.  
  
"Captain," Riker strode over to his captain, who was slouched on his sofa.  
  
"I'm all right, Number One." But he was holding a hand to his head. He stood slowly. "Wesley and Robin are still alive, according to that... thing. But he apparently changes his story from person to person, depending upon what will have the greater effect. We've got to have them out of there, no matter what condition they are in." Picard was well aware of his euphemism.  
  
Riker stared at his captain. He had just taken the beating of a lifetime and he was headed for the bridge. Amazing. He had bruises on his face and his nose had bled a little. No, he couldn't be on the bridge in this condition. Five minutes in sickbay would have him in proper shape again."  
  
"Captain, maybe you should let Doctor Crusher--"  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"You look awful, sir."  
  
"Thank you, Number One, but flattery will get you nowhere."  
  
Riker got forceful. Picard tried to keep himself as far from sickbay as possible at all times, he refused to acknowledge illness or pain. "I'll have Doctor Crusher up here in one minute. It'll take her five minutes to have you fixed up. I think I can handle the bridge for six minutes. We won't even be within hailing range of the Neverland for almost thirty minutes."  
  
Picard stared hard at his First Officer, but a slight tensing of the jaw muscles was the only sign of his irritation. He sighed, "Fine."  
  
He wasn't pleased, but he'd get over it.  
  
* * *  
  
They'd been left alone in the cell for hours. Robin, having been in one too many fights and stunned one too many times, was sleeping on the cot. Wes was stretched out on the floor, fingers laced behind his head, thinking.  
  
Wes had stared at Robin for a long moment while she slept, growing angrier at their captors. Robin had a black eye and there was a small spot of blood at the corner of her mouth. As for himself, he had a bruise on his left cheekbone. He felt a bit like Gulliver in a world full of violent little people. Only they weren't all little. A few were even his age.  
  
Essentially, they were in jail. He couldn't get out. He was trapped. There was nothing left he could do, no way to think himself out. At least he'd found Robin. But what good was that when now they were both inescapably confined?  
  
Maybe the Enterprise could find some way to force down their shields. The only way he could think of to do that would be to fire on the Neverland until they blow them out, but then they risk injuring or killing people on board, including himself and Robin. Maybe Data and Geordi would think of something.  
  
If Wes could even find something metal he would try to work out a plan, but they had nothing but themselves and their uniforms. He couldn't even think of an applicable use for their rank pips, Robin's zipper on the back of her one-piece uniform, the buckles on their shoes, he couldn't even believe he'd thought of trying to use them at all! It just goes to show what one will consider when trapped and bored. Wes thought it would be great to return to the Enterprise with stories of how they'd tied together their uniforms and lowered themselves into a vent to escape. But there was no vent, which was just as well. Wes didn't think he could properly concentrate with a disrobed Robin Wallace in such proximity.  
  
He heard the main door at the entrance to the holding cells swish open. He sat up. Robin didn't wake.  
  
Briyen came into view on the other side of the invisible forcefield. Wes didn't make any effort to stand for him. Instead, he wrapped his arms around his bent knees and stared at him.  
  
Briyen lowered the forcefield and came into the cell. Wes considered running for it, but quickly dismissed the idea. He'd have to wake Robin and get her out, too. By the time he did that, Briyen could have the field up again. Even if he didn't, there was no way he and Robin could get through the door at the end of the hall in time.  
  
Briyen came in and stood next to Wesley. He didn't raise the forcefield again. Wes stared at him for a long moment, not standing.  
  
"Aren't you afraid I'll escape?" Wes couldn't keep the ice from his voice.  
  
"No. You're too smart for that."  
  
"Thanks." Wes was not flattered.  
  
Briyen shrugged. "You know you wouldn't get far. So, how come you're here?" Briyen sat down next to him on the floor, trying to express a little camaraderie. He lowered his voice to the level of Wes's, in consideration of Robin.  
  
"Didn't your captain tell you?" Wes wasn't warming up just yet.  
  
"No. I didn't even know you were here. I just guessed that if you weren't in your quarters, they'd probably stick you in with her," he hitched his thumb over his shoulder at Robin.  
  
"What will they do with us?"  
  
"I don't know. Why are you in here instead of on Deck 4?"  
  
"They think I attacked your captain."  
  
"They think you tried to kill her?" Briyen's eyebrows went up.  
  
"No..." Wes hesitated to explain it. "They think I tried to..." He couldn't even say it in the first person, it was so awful. And it galled him to know many of the crew of this ship thought that of him. "...that I tried..."  
  
Briyen shook his head. "I understand." Briyen hesitated for a second, then asked, "Did you?"  
  
Wesley's jaw dropped. "No!" He turned and sat cross-legged, looking Briyen directly in the eyes. "You do believe me, don't you?"  
  
"Yes," Briyen answered, needing very little convincing.  
  
"I guess she's angry with me and it was a good way to get back at me."  
  
"Why is she angry with you?"  
  
"I won't try to take you guys back in time anymore, I guess. And I'm getting sick of being trapped here, I guess I'm getting more sarcastic and less accommodating. I guess we're just stepping up the fight."  
  
"Why else?"  
  
Wes was surprised to hear him ask that. "That's not enough to throw me in the brig?" Wes thought for a second. "Probably also because I keep messing with the computers."  
  
"And?"  
  
Wes studied the Neverland commander for a long moment. "Do you know something, Briyen?"  
  
"Just trying to confirm a suspicion."  
  
"Mind telling me that suspicion?"  
  
"Kaelha. She gets this look in her eyes when she looks at you. Yes, it's mostly hope, but there's more. It's like you're... familiar to her or something. Like there's something in you that... that charms her. Or something. Like the look she used to get when she looked at me," Briyen lowered his eyes, sadly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Maybe she's bored with me. Or maybe it's that you're four years older than me. How can I compete with that?"  
  
"Briyen, are you... are you in love with her?"  
  
"I guess... Well, being with her was my best option."  
  
That made Wes angry at Kaelha. "Out of what options?"  
  
"Stay here, go back with the Ferengi, or find some barely M-class planet with strangers on it and hope for the best."  
  
"Yeah, staying here was definitely the best of those three options. But didn't you ever think you had more than that? What about your homeworld? Did you ever think of trying to go back there?"  
  
"And do what?"  
  
"It depends. Do you have family there?"  
  
Briyen shook his head. "I don't know. I don't think so."  
  
"What about Earth? You'd've been welcome there, you're a Human colonist, aren't you?" Wes asked and Briyen nodded. "Or even any Federation Human colony. Even a ship, like the Enterprise."  
  
Briyen's whole face lit up. "Really? I'd be welcome on the Enterprise?"  
  
"Of course." Wesley didn't know that as fact, but encouragement seemed in order at the moment.  
  
"I guess I never really thought there were other options. And," he looked down again, "and there's nothing really left for me here."  
  
"Briyen, I'm sorry," Wes said when he heard real sadness in the younger boy's voice. "I didn't think that--"  
  
"Almost two years ago," Briyen was about to tell his story, and Wes wasn't about to stop him. "The Neverland crossed the path of the Ferengi ship I was on. I was their slave, they called me Hu-Man. I had been a slave to the Ferengi for almost seven years, on different ships, different captains, all claiming I owed them some debt that I can't remember what I'd done to incur. I hated it there.  
  
"Except for one Ferengi, on the last ship I was on. His name was Vlarg and he worked in a bar on the ship. He talked to me as if I was a friend. He never called me Hu-Man. He taught me about a lot of things. He drew our galaxy on a cocktail napkin and showed me where all the planets were in the Alpha Quadrant. He told me about his planet and their rulers, his friends. As often as he could, he would ask for me to work with him for the day. Those were the best days. But Vlarg transferred to another ship one day and I never saw him again.  
  
"Not two months later, I found out there was a large starcruiser in the area. I rigged up a subspace relay and hailed it. Kaelha beamed me aboard and chased off the Ferengi. Then, I was in her debt. Not for money, but for saving me. My entire life, I've been bound to someone I owed something to. I've never really been free, never had a real choice.  
  
"But being aboard the Neverland was better than I'd ever had it. She immediately made me her first officer, and it was sort of an agreement between the two of us, that we'd watch out for each other and take care of each other. I've never belonged to anyone before as a friend, except Vlarg. Only as property."  
  
Wes interjected here. "Can I ask you a question? You don't have to answer if it's too personal."  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Did you and Kaelha ever... um..."  
  
"Oh," Briyen caught on. He blushed a little. "No. Though not for lack of trying."  
  
Wesley's jaw dropped. "She...? Were you... you weren't... pressured... into anything. Were you?"  
  
"Heck no! I meant me trying. Look at her, she's beautiful!"  
  
"She's fifty-four, Briyen."  
  
"Not really. It's like... like a Human male and a Selelvian female. They'd be the same relative age when the Human male is about 16 years old and the Selelvian female is about 60."  
  
Wes couldn't really argue with that. Selelvians matured much more quickly. The situation between Briyen and Kaelha was similar. "So you weren't... you didn't feel like you had to, then."  
  
"No, never." Then Briyen lifted his eyebrows questioningly. He seemed almost afraid to ask, "Were you?"  
  
Wes gave a short, derisive laugh. "I'm twice her size, Briyen," but that was the only answer he gave. He stood up and paced away from him, more than a little sick of the conversation.  
  
"Anyway," he rose and began turning something over in his hand. "There's a reason why I'm here."  
  
Wes turned around. He hadn't realized Briyen had brought anything into the cell with him.  
  
"I'm here to help you get home."  
  
Wes glanced around the cell as if he were about to suggest that Briyen be quiet about escaping.  
  
"Don't worry," Briyen said. "I rigged surveillance so they're seeing and hearing a loop. Luckily, neither of you moved much during my clip, so I didn't have to work too hard to match up the ends. I left my communicator in my quarters so the computer can't locate me as being in here with you. Now, what can I do to help you two get out of here?"  
  
Wes stared him down for a few long moments, then asked, "Are you sure you want to get yourself into this?"  
  
"I think of it as getting myself out of this."  
  
"What's that?" Wes pointed at Briyen's closed fist.  
  
He opened his hand. In his palm he held a handful of complex wiring and circuitry. Wes didn't recognize it. He picked it up and turned it over and over, examining it.  
  
"A communicator?" Wes was stunned. Briyen nodded. "Where did you get this?"  
  
"I made it."  
  
"You made it?"  
  
Briyen smiled shyly.  
  
"This is great! Can we send messages, or just signals?"  
  
"Audio messages. But before we use it, we have to disable the shields so the message can get through. It's... well, it's good, but it's not that good. It is kind of thrown together. I've got a PADD that'll hook up to the systems in the Jefferies tubes, and I can tap into the weapons systems." Then he added, "As First Officer, I... pretty much have access to everything."  
  
Wesley was blown away. He'd been the only person he'd ever known to do such things at such a young age. But still... "What's the catch?" one side of Wes's mouth curled upward.  
  
Briyen grinned mischievously. "Yeah, there's one condition. Take me with you."  
  
A slow smile spread on Wes's face. "Done."  
  
"Oh, and we should wake up your girlfriend now."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Responses to Reviews:  
  
LaSemeuse: Oh, the science and theory behind time gave me such fits trying to research it! I wanted to go further into Quantum Theory, but the leap would require so much connecting that it would get boring in narration. Glad you're enjoying the story, sorry I've been so lax in getting to the hopefully-not-disappointing conclusion!  
  
Emily - Thanks :) I'm getting there today, I hope. Again, my apologies for being so slow!  
  
DB - Oh no! My most verbal reviewer, what have I done to you! I'm sorry, here, have some chapters! *pets* 


	26. Chapter TwentyFive

Chapter 25  
  
"Good as new, Jean-Luc," Beverly folded her tricorder and slipped it into her labcoat pocket. Picard stood and straightened his uniform top.  
  
"Thank you, Doctor," Picard answered stiffly.  
  
"Jean-Luc," Beverly followed him around to his side of his ready room desk and leaned against it, hands in her pockets. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Wrong?"  
  
Here we go again, Beverly thought. "Yes. Something's bothering you, and I'm afraid it was something the creature said while it was impersonating Jack."  
  
"Hardly."  
  
"Jean-Luc..."  
  
"Beverly, I'm fine." He flattened his palms on his desktop and sank into his chair. "I should be asking you if you're all right."  
  
"You already know the answer to that question. I'll be all right when Wesley's back aboard."  
  
"As will I. Meantime, this creature is merely an annoyance."  
  
"What did he say to you?"  
  
"Well, he said very little," he was getting edgy. "He was far too busy trying to do away with me."  
  
"In the form of Jack."  
  
"That, Doctor, is purely incidental."  
  
"You're right. It is. But are you sure you believe that?"  
  
"Doctor. I'd really like to put this behind me and find your son and Ensign Wallace. We can hold group therapy later."  
  
Beverly stood staring at him for a moment, then turned and left. Now was evidently not a good time to have a heart to heart with her captain about their feelings for the late Jack Crusher.  
  
Picard sighed once he was alone. He would breathe ten times, then he would go out onto the bridge. He was certainly not going to discuss with Beverly how the creature had pinpointed his feelings toward his Chief Medical Officer. But how could he stop what he was certain he was beginning to feel? Right now, he would simply think of swimming in Alaska in February.  
  
But trying not to think of something inevitably brings it to mind. So Picard concentrated on the ten deep, measured breaths he'd promised himself before entering the bridge. That would relax him a bit.  
  
He was on breath number nine when his comm badge twinkled. It was a little like the feeling one gets when one is awakened five minutes before one's alarmclock is set to go off.  
  
"Yes, Number One?"  
  
"Captain, we've got them. I don't know how this is happening, but we are receiving a signal from the ship on a closed frequency."  
  
The captain was on the bridge almost before the commander had finished speaking.  
  
* * *  
  
Briyen, Wesley and Robin crawled on hands and knees through the cramped Jefferies tubes towards the weapons systems main terminal. Some of the tubes had been mercifully vertical with ladders through them, but now they were stuck in the horizontal ones, and Robin was getting a bit claustrophobic.  
  
"I feel like I'm escaping with the Lost Boys from Never-Never Land," Robin quipped as she crawled behind Wesley and Briyen.  
  
Wesley pursed his lips. "Well, you are." Then he glanced back over his shoulder at her and added, "Wendy."  
  
"Ha," she snorted. "Just don't expect me to tell you stories or sew pockets for you."  
  
"Aw, man..." Wes tried to sound disappointed.  
  
"Are you sure no one knows we're gone, Briyen?" she asked.  
  
Briyen, who was up front, called back to her, "No, but we don't really have much choice. We'll just have to work fast."  
  
"Right," she muttered.  
  
Briyen clicked the PADD into place over one of the closed hatches. He punched a few buttons then removed the PADD. The hatch opened and they crawled through. Then Robin closed the tiny doors behind them. At least that would slow down anyone who might be following them.  
  
Briyen stopped halfway down the next segment of tube.  
  
"Here," he said, prying loose a panel with his fingers. Then he tossed the comm badge to Wesley. "See if you can get this thing working with your security code."  
  
"No way, my code's probably erased from all computers and set with all kinds of alarms by now. I've used it to do too much damage."  
  
"Use Robin's."  
  
Wes was sitting in a slouch to avoid bumping his head on the top of the tube. "Do you have clearance for ship-to-ship communiqués?"  
  
"Yes. It's Wallace Kappa 83 Magic. Can you really code that thing right here?"  
  
"Yeah," Wes answered distractedly. He was already busy with the communicator wiring and Briyen's PADD. It would just take a few more seconds... "All set."  
  
"Okay, hail the Enterprise while I try to get shields down," said Briyen. He took the PADD back from Wesley and started work on the weapons system.  
  
Wes met Robin's eyes for a second. She crossed her fingers. Then he activated the communicator and it twinkled in readiness. "It worked!"  
  
* * *  
  
"Open the link, Mister Worf," Picard strode over to his captain's chair and slid into it.  
  
"Only audio is available, sir. The link is now open."  
  
"...is Ensign Wesley Crusher to the Enterprise. Again, please respond!"  
  
The link was fuzzy, but the words were understandable. Beverly, standing at the bottom of the aft ramp, closed her eyes and exhaled for the first time in three days.  
  
"We hear you, Ensign. Are you all right?"  
  
"Captain!" Wesley's voice sounded overjoyed. "Sir! We're fine, sir, but we need to hurry. We're disabling their shields now -- three to beam up on my mark, please!"  
  
"Three?" the captain asked.  
  
"I'll explain in person, sir, we just got the shields down, ready to beam up when you are."  
  
"All right, ensign. Transporter Room Three, prepare to transport three persons from the Neverland at the given location on my mark."  
  
"Aye, sir," Chief O'Brien answered.  
  
"Mister Data, transfer the coordinates and signatures to the Chief."  
  
"Done, sir."  
  
"Captain," Chief O'Brien warned, "the ship's shields are fluctuating, powering up and down. I can't properly locate them."  
  
"Do what you can, Chief."  
  
"Captain Picard," it was Wesley. "We're ready when-- Ah!"  
  
Picard could hear three separate cries over the commlink, and they weren't ceasing.  
  
"Chief, energize!" Picard yelled over the din.  
  
Beverly Crusher was in the turbolift and on her way to the transporter room before anyone could tell her to go.  
  
"The lock is fading in and out, Captain! I'm trying to clarify. I can't get them!"  
  
The cries had degenerated into whimpers and groans. Picard didn't like the sound of this. "Data, can you clarify the lock for Transporter Room Three?"  
  
"I am attempting that now, sir," Data was the picture of composure, except for a higher speaking volume to conquer the sounds of pain coming over the commlink.  
  
"Chief!" Picard called.  
  
"I've got them! I've got them, sir, they're here," O'Brien breathed. "They're all right."  
  
* * *  
  
O'Brien watched three crouched figures materialize on the transporter pad, then sink the rest of the way to the ground.  
  
Beverly burst through the doors and raced over to the figures. She scanned them with a tricorder and found them all to be here, real, and in fairly stable condition. They had been hit with a mild jolt of electricity, a defense mechanism of the Neverland's to guard against tampering. All three were stirring. They would be fine.  
  
Wes slowly sat up. Beverly was down on one knee next to him. She brushed the damp hair off his forehead with cool fingers. Wes was flushed and he felt warm, but he was fine. Just fine.  
  
Two other nurses from Doctor Crusher's sickbay entered upon her earlier order and began to tend to Robin and... wasn't that the commander of the Neverland? They'd tend to injuries now and ask questions later.  
  
"Am I r-really on th-the Enterp-p-prise?" he glanced around.  
  
Beverly nodded, "If it's really you." Her voice broke over the words and she gave him a watery smile.  
  
Wes smiled back and pulled himself up to his knees. He not so much hugged her as collapsed into her arms. She clung to him, no doubt in her mind that this really was her son.  
  
"W-Wes?" it was Robin's voice. He turned to look at her. She was sitting up, her cheeks and the bridge of her nose were pink and her hair hung in damp strings around her face. "We m-made it?"  
  
Wes smiled at her. "We made it."  
  
"I f-forgot about th-th-that security m-measure," Briyen's teeth chattered, but he was up on his knees.  
  
"What's he doing here?" Beverly whispered to her son.  
  
"He got us back here. I'll explain later," Wes was on his feet. "You've got to get us to the bridge. We have to tell the captain what we know."  
  
"I don't know about that, I should get you three to sickbay. You were jolted with some strong currents of electricity."  
  
"I'm fine." Wes looked at Robin.  
  
"I'm all right," she answered, standing up.  
  
Briyen's teeth had stopped chattering under the ministrations of the nurse attending to him. He gently gestured him away and stood up. "I'm okay, too."  
  
Beverly stood staring at the three of them, sweat-soaked, uniforms bearing traces of black burn spots from sparks, coated with dust and dirt, and Wes and Robin were a little bruised. She should absolutely not allow this. "All right."  
  
They had just started down the corridor when the Enterprise was rocked violently. The four of them staggered and gripped the walls.  
  
* * *  
  
"Report!" Picard demanded.  
  
"Captain, there is minor damage to the stardrive section. Starboard, sector coordinate eight," Data's hands flew over the Ops panel. Worf confirmed Data's report.  
  
Riker stood and stepped up behind Picard. "Minor damage? They could destroy our ship with two shots and they're aiming with low power at a non- vital part of our ship?"  
  
"Perhaps it was a warning shot, Number One. Mister Worf, hail the Neverland until they answer."  
  
"Aye, captain."  
  
* * *  
  
Two minutes later, Doctor Beverly Crusher rushed onto the bridge followed by Ensign Wesley Crusher, Ensign Robin Wallace and Commander Briyen of the Neverland. Ensign Billy Nolan practically jumped out of the Conn seat and ran to Aft Engineering. Robin took Mission Ops on the aft and Briyen stood off to the side near the turbolift. Beverly took a place near Deanna.  
  
Wesley slipped into the Helm seat he never thought he'd see again and spread his fingers over the familiar console, smiling at the comfortable feel of "home" he was getting from it.  
  
"Good to have you back, Mister Crusher, Mister Wallace," Picard stared at Briyen for a long moment, then decided the time for questions was later.  
  
"Thank you, sir," the two ensigns answered from their stations.  
  
Picard then took his seat and began action in the same automaton movements that Wesley found thrilling just for today.  
  
Worf rumbled, "The Neverland is responding, captain."  
  
"On screen."  
  
Kaelha appeared on the screen in a rage. "Jean-Luc, I thought your race professed the 'eye for an eye' laws to be harsh and unfair!"  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"I had a very good reason for needing your officers. I fail to see why you took mine!"  
  
Picard got it. "We did not take your first officer, Captain Kaelha. We are as surprised to see him here as you are."  
  
"I find that very difficult to believe, Jean-Luc."  
  
"Oh, shut up, Kaelha, you find everything difficult to believe!" it was Briyen. He stepped off the aft ramp and came into Kaelha's view.  
  
"Commander! What are you doing on that ship of... of adults?"  
  
"Watch it, I'm going to be an adult one day. So I quit. I resign my position on your ship."  
  
"That's ridiculous, you can't quit! What will you do now? Where are you going to go?"  
  
"I don't know yet, but I can go anywhere. I can do anything I want now, I'm free."  
  
"You mean you're alone."  
  
"Those two don't always go together, Kaelha."  
  
"But what about me? I need you here. You're my first officer."  
  
"You don't need me. What you need, Kaelha, I can't give you. No one can. You can't make someone else fill the emptiness in you. Having me with you can't make you feel like you have a purpose as a care-giver, just as having Wesley Crusher with you can't make you feel like you have dreams and desires again."  
  
"What?" Riker whispered to Picard, who silenced him with a gesture.  
  
Wes sank down a little in the Conn seat, humiliated.  
  
"I needed his temporal abilities!" yelled Kaelha.  
  
Briyen shouted back. "Oh, you and I both know he hasn't got any temporal abilities beyond what can be coaxed out of him by that Traveler guy! You're far too old to be acting like a teenager!"  
  
"Too old?" Picard turned to Riker this time. Riker shrugged. "Captain Kae--"  
  
"And in my years I've learned that hope should be rediscovered at any cost!" she ignored Captain Picard.  
  
"Even if the cost is the hope and futures of two young Humans?"  
  
"They would never have known it happened at all!"  
  
"Only if it worked, and you know it wouldn't have worked!"  
  
"It might have! If I could just get the boy to--"  
  
"You're lying to yourself!" Briyen's anger was becoming fury. "What you did is wrong! Nothing can change that, qualify that or justify that! Just stop it! Stop talking! You can't talk yourself out of this one. And I have a feeling you know it."  
  
Kaelha was quiet. When she spoke again, she spoke very softly. "I suppose you found your way out before we complete our original plan."  
  
Briyen shook his head. "I don't want you to go through with--"  
  
Kaelha severed the link.  
  
Captain Picard was on his feet. "Mister Worf, get her back."  
  
"The Neverland is not responding, sir," Worf answered.  
  
"Keep trying."  
  
A phaser blast rocked the Enterprise.  
  
"They're firing on us, sir," the Klingon stated what everyone already knew.  
  
"Red alert," Picard announced. The children were not attacking with their previous power, but they could power up at any moment and blow them into the next quadrant.  
  
The soft white lighting of the bridge dimmed to an eerie red. Another blast. This time with slightly higher power.  
  
"Report," Picard said stiffly.  
  
"Shields holding at 78 percent," Worf answered.  
  
As Picard had expected, the Neverland was going to power up slowly until the Enterprise had no choice but to fight back.  
  
"Why are they firing so carefully when they have so much technology?" Riker scrunched up his eyebrows.  
  
"Perhaps they are merely warning us, sir," Data answered.  
  
"Or luring us," Worf growled. If anyone knew about battle, it was Worf, and Worf could tell a fishline when he saw one. The Neverland wanted a fight, and they would get one.  
  
"Ready phasers, Mister Worf," Picard's soft voice cut through the mild din of the red alert klaxon and dweedling of computer reports coming in at all stations.  
  
"Fire around them, Mister Worf. Let's see if we can't get them to listen to us."  
  
Robin couldn't seem to stand still at Mission Ops. This is the station that works most closely with Tactical in alert situations. She was working literally back to back with Worf. She just wished that didn't include being back to back with the viewscreen. It would be nice to see what was going on.  
  
"Helm, evasive maneuvers."  
  
"Evasive maneuvers, aye," Wesley was glancing rapidly back and forth from his console to the screen, his hands flying over the board. The Enterprise lifted above the Neverland and dove down over it, then came around behind it.. The Neverland was having a difficult time keeping up. Since the Enterprise was smaller, it had a much greater maneuverability. The Enterprise had little difficulty outrunning most of the shots.  
  
The Enterprise inflicted little damage to the Neverland. They hadn't been meaning to damage it, only to keep themselves from being damaged until they could establish a communications link again. Now, suddenly the Neverland was tired of being toyed with, and a phaser blast hit the Enterprise dead on the starboard nacelle.  
  
"Whoa!" Wesley yanked his hands away from his console. Everything had just gone dark.  
  
"Shields at 39 percent!" Worf's trigger finger was itchy.  
  
"Engineering, report," Picard called, opening a commlink.  
  
It was Geordi's voice which answered. "They hit secondary propulsion, starboard! We've got no impulse on that side!"  
  
"Geordi!" Wes called, "Helm's out!"  
  
"I'm on it," Geordi answered.  
  
"Mister Wallace, take over evasive maneuvers from Mission Ops," Picard ordered.  
  
"Aye, sir."  
  
Robin pulled the Enterprise off to one side to avoid another shot from the Neverland.  
  
"Wes, have you got your console back?" Geordi's voice called.  
  
Wesley punched a few keys as the lights came back on in his board. "I'm up," he answered.  
  
"Mister Wallace, transfer navigation back to Conn."  
  
"Navigation commands from Flight Controller, aye, sir."  
  
Wes lifted his head. He heard a faint twinkling sound and the buttons he was touching were responding to his command. It had only been out for a total of seventeen seconds, but that's a terribly long time when you're in battle. Not that his evasive maneuvers would be very good now that one side propulsion was down. He could always just turn left a lot.  
  
"Mister Crusher, get us above them," he ordered, though he knew that would be difficult. The only way Picard knew to have full maneuverability would be to use warp one to jump from right next to them to right above them. But that was highly impractical, sucking far too much power away from shields and phasers. A possibility in case of emergency which he filed in his head for when, if, they needed it.  
  
The Enterprise was listing to the right as it scudded up and above the Neverland. Literally, Wesley was trying to hide from the Neverland behind the Neverland. If he could get to just such a relative coordinate, the Neverland would have to fire through itself to get to the Enterprise. Before he made it to that spot, the Enterprise sustained one more shot.  
  
"Shields are down! We're defenseless!" Worf was the Klingon equivalent of desperate. We wanted to shoot them and he wanted to shoot them now.  
  
"Mister Worf," Picard conceded, "ready photon torpedoes. Mister Crusher, bearing 983 mark 23. Do the best you can."  
  
"Aye, captain."  
  
"Launch photon torpedoes."  
  
Briyen closed his eyes. The people he had lived with for almost two years were all about to die. While he bore them little love, he didn't believe they deserved what they were about to get either. He knew this is what they wanted. Hope would not come back to them because they were not looking for it in the right ways, in the right places. So they'd given up. This was what they'd planned all along. He tried to concentrate on how lucky he was that he was on this ship and not that one at this very moment. He tried to think of the freedom rather than the loss.  
  
Worf touched the control panel. Everyone on the bridge watched the torpedoes blaze through space towards the Neverland.  
  
"Sir!" Worf was astounded. "They've dropped shields!"  
  
I knew they were going to do that, Briyen thought, eyes still squeezed tightly shut. "To die would be an awfully big adventure," he recalled the printed words.  
  
Picard stood slowly, staring at the viewscreen. The shot he had just ordered would not have destroyed the starcruiser, only crippled it. But with shields down...  
  
The Neverland exploded. The particles of the ship collapsing in on themselves and the vacuum rushing into the unoccupied space was almost audible as the bridge crew of the Enterprise watched 273 living beings die.  
  
"Good lord," Picard breathed. "Do you think they were about to hail us?"  
  
"No, captain," it was Briyen. "They did exactly what they wanted."  
  
Picard was about to address that when the viewscreen caught his attention. Almost all together, every crew member on the bridge stopped breathing when they saw what was on the screen. Robin and Billy turned to see and their jaws dropped. Sounds of surprise died in the throats which attempted to produce them.  
  
There had been a smaller ship inside the Neverland. Although heavily damaged and certainly unable to support life, the saucer section (yes, saucer section) of the smaller ship bore the clearly visible serial number NCC-1701-B.  
  
"Sir," Data was the only one not too astounded to speak. He was busy trying to identify the situation and the smaller ship. Then he stated what everyone already knew. "That is the third model of the Federation starship Enterprise."  
  
Even the ever-prepared Captain Jean-Luc Picard was speechless for a moment. "What on earth are they doing with an Enterprise?"  
  
"Sir?" Briyen's voice was soft and nervous. "I think I can explain."  
  
Picard stared at him. His dark hair hung over icy eyes. His thin frame was slouched and posed in such a position as to seem out of the way. Picard sat down.  
  
"In a moment, Commander Briyen. Mister Data, is there anyone... left on the Neverland?"  
  
"No, sir," Data used a voice which was soft and approximated reverence for the lost lives. "There are no life signs at all from the ship that remains and no escape pods were launched."  
  
The captain did not ask for a moment of silence, but he got one anyway. Everyone was mesmerized by the sight on the viewscreen.  
  
"All right," Picard sighed. "Everyone knows something that should be shared, so we shall hold a briefing right here. First and foremost, I would like the conversation between Commander Briyen and Captain Kaelha explained."  
  
Tentatively, Briyen corrected, "I'm not a commander anymore, captain, I'd prefer to just be Briyen."  
  
"Of course." Picard had just spent over three days trying to make a young girl refer to him by his proper title. He wasn't about to deny Briyen the privilege of being addressed as he wished. "Briyen, please tell us what you can about the children."  
  
"First of all," it seemed like all Briyen's confidence came back when being asked to speak, "they're not children. Each one of them was thirty- nine years older than they appeared to be."  
  
"You speak of them as separate from yourself?" Deanna asked, sensing that this information was important.  
  
"Well, yes. I am separate. I'm Human, and I really am fifteen. I only know about them from what Kaelha told me. They were all B'Safran. B'Safra's a planet like Earth, but it's way out there on the edge of what we know exists. They weren't real technologically advanced or anything, because they had traditions and religions that didn't expand with their discoveries. Everything was based on superstition and stories. Like... myths.  
  
"There's this huge mountain range off their main continent that they called the Gaterran Mountains, after their god of returning to the soil or whatever. But nobody ever goes there 'cause they believe it's the place of the dead. People would travel there and never return -- probably because it was too treacherous, but they thought it was because ghosts got them or something," Briyen crinkled his nose at the silliness. "But almost seventy- five years ago, a huge star fell into the mountains and that only made their story more believable. Of course it wasn't a star, but it was that ship," he pointed at the viewscreen.  
  
"But B'Safra is a very recent Federation discovery," Riker shook his head. "M class, yes, but totally barren and uninhabited. In fact, they've found no signs of life having existed there in thousands of years. We've been searching for the Enterprise B for years, no one knows what happened to it. It's an excelsior class. It did more discovering and mapping than any other Enterprise. We just assumed it went too far one time."  
  
Briyen shrugged. "I guess so. I don't know why it crashed. I don't think anyone did. They all thought it was a sign from the gods or something. Anyway, thirty-eight years ago, these alien guys, the Ylaswa, attacked their planet. The B'Safrans didn't even know there was life on other planets, so they really weren't able to defend themselves against an alien attack. At the time, nobody really knew why they attacked, probably to terraform the planet into something useful for themselves, but if you say there was no life there... then I guess they succeeded in wiping almost everything out. Or maybe taking it? They released this toxin into the air and water that killed off all existing life. Well, it was supposed to kill off all life. But it didn't kill the B'Safrans on the Neverland, it just made them stop getting any older. So everyone on that ship was all adults. In their minds, anyway."  
  
"But what about this ghost that's been haunting us?" Beverly asked.  
  
"Oh yeah. Have you ever heard of the Q Continuum?"  
  
"Heard?" Picard demanded. "Did Q have anything to do with this?"  
  
Briyen looked alarmed. "Oh. No. Not the Q you're thinking of anyway. The logs of this Enterprise show a lot of stuff about a Q, but this isn't him."  
  
Picard nodded once curtly. "This is another member of the Q?"  
  
"Well, no. Not anymore. It didn't have total omnipotence. If it tried to do something difficult for too long, it'd flicker or disappear or something."  
  
"Yes, we witnessed as much. Where is it now? Can it be located? Will he come to you?"  
  
"No, sir, I don't think so. I wasn't one of his children. It... sort of became a guardian for the B'Safrans. And, well, I'm not B'Safran. Kaelha and all them first saw it when they found the Enterprise. I guess it was snooping around the old ship too."  
  
"If no one ever ventured into the Getteran Mountains," Data questioned, "how was the ship found?"  
  
"Well, when Kaelha found out that all the adults were gone, at least from her continent, and that she wasn't getting any older, she decided to abandon tradition and figure things out for herself." Briyen smiled slightly and glanced at the floor, "She was always like that. No one could tell her what to do. She had a mind of her own."  
  
"Thank god," Billy added, surprising the bridge with his unexpected input. "Every race needs a free thinker, a leader who will bring them into the next age."  
  
Briyen pointed at Billy. "Exactly."  
  
Data looked up from his scanning on the Ops console. "As far as I am able to determine, whatever the creature was, it is now gone."  
  
Briyen went on to describe how the children worked on the ship (with help from the creature) until it was spaceworthy, and how he came to be on the Neverland. He explained how the children were beginning to lose hope and direction, even with all they'd learned, they'd never truly grow, never perpetuate their race. "They hoped that they could lure you here with a distress call, pick a fight, and hopefully lose."  
  
"Which is exactly what happened," Riker said.  
  
"At length, yes," Deanna was studying Briyen, "but what happened over the past three days, Briyen?"  
  
"She didn't plan on kidnapping anyone. She knew about you," he looked at Wes, "but she thought you would be at the Academy by now."  
  
Wes huffed sarcastically. So had he.  
  
"When she saw him, she figured he could go back in time, warn her people of what was coming, at least get some of them off the planet. Save her race. But he can't alter time. Not without the Traveler. Oh, and Robin, well... Kaelha brought her along to be strength for Wesley, but she was totally jealous of her." Then he gestured placatingly to Wesley and quickly added, "Not entirely because of how close Robin is with you, but because of Robin herself. Her personality. Robin is a lot like Kaelha used to be, before her spirit was beaten down by being hopeless for years and years. She wasn't willing to so quickly let go of the hope that Wes and Robin could save them. And completely save her."  
  
Robin met Wesley's eyes with a sorrowful gaze. Wes's jaw was clenched tightly. Deanna made a mental note of the guilt emanating from the two of them and decided to talk to them later about it.  
  
"But how did they know who we all are and so much about us?" Doctor Crusher asked.  
  
"I think we can assume they learned all they could from the Enterprise B and hacked the rest from our computer system. Anything they couldn't find out, their telepath or the omniscient creature could tell them," Riker answered for her.  
  
Briyen hung his head and said softly, "Pretty much."  
  
Deanna sensed his holding something back and said, "And?"  
  
"Well, the Q... the... creature... wasn't omniscient. So... well, we had to get some information from your... well, your personal logs."  
  
Picard's eyebrow twitched. "I beg your pardon?"  
  
Riker narrowed his eyes at the boy. "Whose personal logs?"  
  
"Well, Wesley's, of course." Hearing Briyen's words, Wesley closed his eyes in mild embarrassment. Briyen continued, "Robin's, Doctor Crusher's--"  
  
Beverly's eyebrows shot up. "What?"  
  
"Um..." Briyen was getting less comfortable with listing his recent reading material. "Um... Geordi's and Worf's... and... um, well, yours, sir..." he looked at Riker.  
  
"Is that all, young man?" Picard was still in the clear, but already irritated.  
  
"Well, um, no sir, um... Counselor Troi's and Billy Nolan's and... and yours, captain, and... and even Lieutenant Commander Data's. Sir."  
  
Data turned around in his chair to look at Briyen. Intriguing.  
  
"Well," Picard let very little air escape with that word. "I suppose that's everything. By 1900 hours I want a full report from Ensigns Crusher and Wallace. Briyen, will you come with me to my ready room now?"  
  
Briyen followed the captain off the bridge.  
  
In Picard's ready room, Briyen gave his account of what had happened for the past three days, as well as the past two years, on the Neverland.  
  
"You will be assigned quarters here on the Enterprise until we can locate a relative or a guardian, at which time it will be your decision where you'd like to go."  
  
"Thank you, captain," Briyen sniffed.  
  
* * *  
  
Briyen walked empty-handed into the living quarters that had been given to him. He had no belongings and nothing to bring with him but himself. In a way, it was exhilarating, like just being born, but all over again. Now the universe was his to chose from. But on the other hand, it was terrifying.  
  
Now what? He didn't know what he wanted to do with his life. He'd never really given it much thought. He had dreams, but dreams are just that. Dreams. And up until a few short hours ago, he'd had an occupation and a home, friends, someone who loved him. They may not have been ideal, but they were something. Now everything was gone. Everything.  
  
He had not been truly happy there. There were things that made him happy, but the situation, taken for everything, was not a pleasant one for him. When he'd heard of the plans with the Enterprise and drawing its fire, he'd wanted out. But where to?  
  
He sighed and sat down on a chair, looking around at the beautiful room. The lights were dim and there were windows which seemed to face back. He could see retreating stars and part of a nacelle through the windows which slanted outward toward the top.  
  
Kaelha always used to talk about how she'd wanted her life to be like a comet, a gigantic blazing star that everyone could see and appreciate. She'd wanted to create something meaningful, lasting, helpful, to make an impression on life, to have a truly important existence. Now that her life was over, it remained only to look back and evaluate his opinion on whether she'd succeeded or failed. Or if it was even fair for him to inflict his own perception of her success or failure to her life, when a person's life can only truly be measured by their own expectations of themselves.  
  
And what of his own life? Who would evaluate his success and failure when he was gone? Would they be satisfied? More importantly, would he? What will make his life mean something, make it important? Would he be satisfied with anything less than his dreams? What if he couldn't achieve his dreams?  
  
He shook his head. He was too tired and worn out to think about things like this. There's always tomorrow, he thought, then realized the irony in that statement. Tomorrow, in fact, isn't always there to wait for. What about today? He'd inadvertently gone back to his baffling thoughts.  
  
Today he was going to bed. He stood up and went into the bedroom. Just as he was turning down the blankets and about to crawl in, he noticed a star that seemed to sparkle. He squinted at it. Stars don't sparkle unless their light is distorted by a planet's atmosphere. His eyes must have been playing tricks on him. But he was suddenly reminded of the words to that song Kaelha was so fond of quoting, and it momentarily comforted him. "The second star to the right shines in the night for you, to tell you that the dreams you've planned really can come true."  
  
* * *  
  
Captain Jean-Luc Picard spoke to the tiny viewscreen on his ready room desk.  
  
"Yes, Admiral, you were correct in hearing that we have discovered the Enterprise B."  
  
"Congratulations, Captain," Admiral Thelasli said. "I presume I will have your complete report in the morning?"  
  
"Of course, sir," Picard answered. "I've already sent the coordinates to Starbase 117. They will have the ship towed there."  
  
"How fitting, Jean-Luc," Picard also allowed anyone who outranked him to call him whatever they wished, "that the fifth Enterprise should find the third."  
  
"Fitting, indeed," Picard smiled. It was James T. Kirk, captain of the first Enterprise, who said that there was a certain type of luck that followed his ship wherever it went. And even in Kirk's retirement, when he followed closely the movements of the second model of his ship, he said it was also blessed with "the luck of the Enterprises". Picard knew that by this time tomorrow, the ancient excelsior-class ship would be teeming with Starfleet scientists attempting to discover the fate of the old ship. Too bad that, after so much time and alteration, there would be little chance of the discovery of a little black box.  
  
Picard had the feeling that the luck of the Enterprises followed his ship as well.  
  
He had just ended the communication with the admiral when the door chime trilled.  
  
"Come," he called and Doctor Beverly Crusher entered. Picard rose and moved around his desk to join her in front of it. She had an odd look on her face. "Beverly. Are you all right?"  
  
"Yes, and Wesley's fine, too." Beverly sighed nostalgically. "We've been through a lot together, you and I. Haven't we, Jean-Luc?"  
  
"More than I'd care to remember," Picard answered, searching her deep, green eyes for her real motive.  
  
"I could have lost my son, Jean-Luc, but you saved him."  
  
"Please, Beverly, don't thank me for that. I don't think I could bear it." Picard was a man who did not look down or away from someone, so he closed his eyes and shook his head. How could he stand that she wanted to congratulate him for letting her son live, when he really had very little to do with the rescue?  
  
"Jean-Luc," Beverly laid her hands on his shoulders, "you did not cause my husband to die, and you did not cause my son to live. But you were there, in command, whenever something happened, handling it with grace and unflinching composure." She smiled at him, "Just because you weren't with them fighting their way out doesn't mean you weren't here fighting their way back here. Understood?"  
  
Beverly saw a tiny smile play across Jean-Luc's lips. "Understood, Doctor." He had the most gentle eyes she'd ever seen, and he was the most incredible man she'd ever met. How could any person be so gentle and Human, yet so rigid and commanding all at once? It was as if he had achieved within himself a perfect balance.  
  
She suddenly embraced him, burying her head in his shoulder and exhaling for perhaps only the second time in three days. For just a moment, she wanted to feel the strength and serenity of the still waters within him that ran so deep.  
  
Picard slowly lifted his arms around her waist and held her. He was captain, confidant, companion and best friend to this woman, but it never seemed to be enough. 


	27. Chapter TwentySix

Chapter 26  
  
Wesley Crusher and Robin Wallace were in Deanna Troi's quarters. Robin was sitting cross-legged on a chair, and Wes was on the sofa-built- into-the-wall below the windows. His ankle was crossed over his knee and his arms were folded.  
  
Deanna, a trained counselor as well as an empath, knew simply by looking at the two young officers that they were "closed," merely by their body positions. She had tried to get Briyen to join them, but he wasn't quite ready to talk.  
  
"Thanks, Counselor, but I think I just need to rest and take things slowly just now. But I'd like it if we could talk later," he had politely said when she asked, and she'd left it at that.  
  
Deanna glanced back and forth between the two ensigns, hoping one of them would volunteer to start the discussion. Robin gave a timid smile and drummed her fingers on her knee. Wes looked down when Deanna's gaze met his. Deanna decided to start with him.  
  
"Wes, do you want to talk about what happened on the Neverland?"  
  
He sighed. "I've recounted it so many times in the past twenty-four hours that, no offense, Counselor, but no, I really don't."  
  
"Then would you like to tell me what's wrong?"  
  
"What's wrong?" Wes sounded surprised to be asked.  
  
"Yes. You're sad, something is troubling you. Would you like to tell me what it is?"  
  
"Oh, nothing much. There was this mass genocide because of me, but other than that, everything's fine." He hadn't meant to sound so sarcastic but he couldn't help it.  
  
"Wesley, you are not responsible for the deaths of the B'Safran children."  
  
"If I'm not, who is?"  
  
"Wesley, it's not about placing blame. We could blame Kaelha for lowering the shields, Briyen for knowing they'd do it, you and Robin for not acceding to their every wish, Captain Picard for ordering the shot to be fired, Worf for firing the shot. You see what I mean?"  
  
"Yeah, but let's pretend for a second that it is about placing blame. Who of everyone you mentioned is most at fault?"  
  
"If I had to chose, Wesley, it would not be you."  
  
"Wes, come on," Robin's voice was soft and calm. "You didn't do anything wrong, and you gotta know that."  
  
"I kept refusing to even try to help them," Wes said. "But she wanted so much from me. It's like... she wanted someone to come in like a savior and put everything back the way it was before. I couldn't do it, and I knew I couldn't, but I refused to even try."  
  
"They made you try anyway, Wes," Robin whispered.  
  
"And it didn't work!"  
  
"Wesley," Deanna interrupted, "if you know you couldn't do for them what they needed, no matter what you tried, then why do you feel guilty about not being able to save them?"  
  
Wes was quiet for a long moment, then he sighed and covered his face with his hands. "Because I *don't* know that." When he took his hands away from his face, he looked older, or somehow different. As if he'd been changed slightly by everything that had happened in the past few days. "Maybe I could have."  
  
"What?" Robin asked. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Maybe I just didn't try hard enough. Like with that cure for Jaan's disease. If I had just tried a little harder. Maybe I really am able to help, but I just couldn't get it right."  
  
"Wes," Deanna leaned towards him. "You did everything you could. Without violating any Federation rules or the Prime Directive, you did only what you could. I think you acted admirably, both of you. And your escape was brilliant and commendable."  
  
Federation law doesn't make it right, Wes thought, but didn't say it aloud. What he did say aloud was, "The escape was really all Briyen."  
  
"Not all." Deanna looked at Ensign Wallace. "Robin? How are you feeling about all this?"  
  
Robin shook her head, eyes wide with the expression of her freedom of responsibility, "I'm fine. Look, nobody takes me anywhere without my permission. Whatever their little problems were, they could work it out without compromising my rights as a living being. If they needed our help, they should have asked for it. There was no reason and no excuse for what they did. And I'm sorry that they decided they had to die, but I feel in no way responsible for that."  
  
Deanna smiled. At least she didn't have to worry about consoling her. Though momentary twinges made Deanna wonder if Robin was being completely truthful with herself.  
  
"Wes, is there anything you'd like to say to Robin?"  
  
Wes up at Deanna, "Yeah," then over at Robin. "Robin, I-- I'm sorry you got dragged into this. I was anxious to go negotiate and I should have stopped asking."  
  
"It wasn't your fault, Wes, you were manipulated into asking. And we were ordered to go." She rolled her eyes, "Or so we thought."  
  
"And Robin?" Deanna looked to her, "Is there anything you need to say to Wesley?"  
  
For a moment, she sat still, thinking. Then she drew a deep breath and held it, nodded.  
  
Robin got up and went over to the couch where Wesley was sitting. She sank down next to him and took his hand into hers. Wes looked at her hands, not meeting her eyes yet. She whispered, "Wes?" and he looked up. For a long moment she stared in his eyes, conveying wordlessly her sincerity. "Thank you." Wesley closed his eyes and turned his head, about to say something about how she should not thank him, but she squeezed his hand gently and he looked back up at her. She repeated herself. "Thank you for saving me. Thank you for fighting for me every second you could and for bringing me back." Wes thought fleetingly of his father and it tugged at his heart. Robin's eyes were locked with his. "Thank you for bringing me back alive."  
  
Suddenly, Wes pulled her into a tight embrace, eyes squeezed shut, his hands in fists. Robin was combating her own tears as she clung to the young man who had helped her so much.  
  
Deanna leaned back in her chair and folded her arms, smiling.  
  
* * *  
  
Guinan's entire face was glowing. She was looking around the Ten- Forward room and seeing laughing faces. Many of them. But one was still missing.  
  
Captain Jean-Luc Picard entered Ten-Forward and walked directly to the bar to greet Guinan.  
  
There. That was the face that was missing, Guinan smiled.  
  
"Jean-Luc," she ducked her head in acknowledgment. She was polishing a glass to perfection, then set it on the bar in front of Picard. It was a clear tea glass. The kind in which he always got Earl Grey tea.  
  
"Hullo, Guinan," Picard was all finesse and confidence once again. And being near Guinan heightened the mood.  
  
"Heard you did quite a job with that Neverland thing."  
  
Picard studied the glass. "Oh, it wasn't me at all.  
  
Wesley Crusher entered Ten-Forward looking for the captain. He saw him immediately, talking to Guinan with his back to Wesley. Guinan's eyes flicked over to Wesley, the ghost of a smile on her lips, then back to the captain, who didn't notice the gesture. It was her very subtle, very clear message to Wesley that he should wait just a moment, until she had finished with their captain. Wes leaned against the wall near the door and folded his arms.  
  
"It wasn't you?" Guinan looked genuinely puzzled. "Hm. Everyone around here is so eager to accept blame and so reluctant to accept credit. Just who was giving the orders around here for the past three days?"  
  
"Guinan, I appreciate what you're--"  
  
Guinan's gentle eyes persisted. "Captain, were you giving orders aboard this ship for the past three days? Did you free Wesley from the ghost of his father? Did you retrieve most of your officers immediately and the rest at brief length from the enemy ship, all unharmed? Did you confront the ghost of your best friend and not allow it to get to you? Or was that someone else? I could swear it looked like you, unless there's someone else around here with a red shirt and a lot of rank pips. And not much hair."  
  
Picard laughed at that. He sighed and smiled.  
  
"You did everything you could to succeed and you did. I admire you for that, Jean-Luc."  
  
Picard took this as a tremendous compliment. He stared at her, speechless, his eyes sparkling. "Thank you, Guinan."  
  
Guinan was no longer looking at him. She was looking in the direction of his usual table where the senior officers had begun to gather. "They're waiting for you, Jean-Luc."  
  
Picard turned to look at his table.  
  
"But first, I think there's someone who needs you for a moment," Guinan was looking at Wesley. Wes took this as a beckon and started towards the bar. Guinan was gone by the time he reached it.  
  
"Captain."  
  
"Hullo, Wesley."  
  
Wes was stunned. The captain had smiled and called him "Wesley". And he said hello, too. He usually just said "ensign" and nodded his head.  
  
"I wanted to thank you, sir. For not leaving us."  
  
"Did you really think I would have left you with them?"  
  
"Well, sir, I know that when an entire ship is in danger, sometimes captains have been forced to sacrifice a crew member to--"  
  
"I know," the smile fell from Picard's face. Wes could've kicked himself. Of course Picard knew very well how that is necessary. It'd been necessary with Jack Crusher. Picard continued, "But I had not yet exhausted all my options, Mister Crusher."  
  
"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to--"  
  
Picard's face gentled again. "It's all right, Wesley. I am very glad I was able to retrieve you and Ensign Wallace. And I should be thanking you for your part in the endeavor."  
  
"Thank me? All I did was get myself and Robin captured."  
  
"And get yourself freed as well."  
  
"Well, Briyen did a lot of--"  
  
"Mister Crusher."  
  
"Yes, sir?"  
  
"You may not have been singularly responsible, but you were largely instrumental. It is that for which I am thanking you."  
  
Wes closed his mouth. "Thank you, sir."  
  
Picard realized suddenly that this is exactly what Guinan had been trying to express to him just a moment ago, and what Beverly had been trying to tell him just last night. It would have made a wonderful fantasy novel if he could have been the dashing hero that single-handedly saved his officers from the grip of death. But this was real life, a real situation. He had been an important part of the operation, and that was the best he could do.  
  
"Sir? There was something else... I was just sort of wondering..."  
  
"What is it, ensign?" Picard dragged himself back to the present.  
  
"When the creature appeared as my father to me and Mom in the turbolift, and you got rid of it by saying... Well, I was wondering why... What did you mean when... when you said..."  
  
"The idea was to do something for which the creature wasn't prepared. I merely stretched the truth to say something it wasn't prepared to hear, and it worked."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Picard nodded at Wes. The conversation was thankfully over. He walked away toward his table of senior officers.  
  
Wesley stood watching them for a moment. He carefully studied the way Picard looked at his mother. And saw nothing out of the ordinary.  
  
But just how far did you stretch that truth, captain?  
  
Wesley jumped when he heard a clink sound behind him. He whirled to face the bar and saw Guinan smiling at him. She'd just placed a clear ether in front of him. With a swizzle-stick-impaled cherry in it. He smiled back at her.  
  
"A little jumpy today, Wes?" Guinan asked.  
  
He sighed, "I guess so. It'll take a little while to get over the feeling that something's going to creep up behind me."  
  
"Probably. You'll get over it. But since you haven't gotten over it yet, I'll warn you of this one. Incoming."  
  
"Hey, Crusher!" a voice came from behind him.  
  
Wes turned to see Billy Nolan coming towards him, mercifully without Karen.  
  
"What do you want, Billy?"  
  
"I just wanted to warn you, Crusher. You ever leave the Conn up to me again, and I'll wrap a warp coil around your neck."  
  
Wesley blinked, unsure if he was kidding or not.  
  
Billy smiled. "And the Academy would absolutely freak if they lost you. Glad to have you back, Brain Trust."  
  
"Thanks," he smirked. "Now how long is it going to take you to figure out that you're wearing the wrong color shirt? That's really not your color, Bill. I'm thinking something like red."  
  
Wes clapped him on the arm and walked off to an empty table.  
  
I believe I've just been complimented, Billy thought as a slow smile spread across his face.  
  
* * *  
  
"Who's that with Geordi?" Beverly jutted her chin in Geordi's direction. Geordi was sitting at a table for two across from a pretty Engineering ensign. Geordi was glancing repeatedly towards Picard's table.  
  
"That's Ensign Suzy Kearns," Riker reported. "If there's a ranking order for greatest Engineering whizzes, it goes Geordi, Wesley, Suzy. Though she's kind of a distant third."  
  
"It seems that she's taken quite a liking to Geordi," Deanna smiled and looked at Riker.  
  
"Ah." He stood. "I believe this is now my area of expertise."  
  
Deanna whispered, "I hope you have a good plan, Will. Techno-babble won't work on Suzy."  
  
Riker winked at her.  
  
Riker approached Geordi's table and Geordi stood up. Picard turned his attention back to his tea, but Crusher and Troi were staring at the Commander as if something funny would happen at any moment.  
  
The two women couldn't hear what Riker was saying, but Geordi was nodding solemnly, as if taking note of new orders being given. Then Geordi politely excused himself from Suzy and left. Riker came back.  
  
"Well," he slid his long legs under the table and gripped the handle of his coffee mug. "That was easier than I thought."  
  
Deanna hadn't looked away yet. And now she was smiling. "Don't get too comfortable yet, Expert."  
  
Ensign Billy Nolan sank into the chair opposite Suzy.  
  
"You think she'll need my help with him?" Riker laughed. "Then you don't know Suzy."  
  
As soon as Billy had sat down and opened his mouth to say something, Suzy sighed and rolled her eyes, then stood up and walked away as if no one had been there at all.  
  
Billy's face fell. Blushing furiously, he glanced around to make sure no one was looking, then rose and slunk out of Ten-Forward.  
  
Deanna looked at Riker, then burst out laughing.  
  
* * *  
  
Wes had been joined by Briyen shortly after his brief conversation with Captain Picard, and he was currently regaling him with stories of his years on the Enterprise. Wes had brought his drink with him from the bar, and when Briyen came in, he ordered one just like it.  
  
"And then what happened?" Briyen's eyes could have fallen out of his head.  
  
"I beamed back to the Enterprise to check my science project, or so I said. I brought back a sliver of dilithium to Geordi on the Hathaway and we warp-jumped. And the Ferengi couldn't figure out what happened! Normally, it's a big waste of energy to warp-jump like that, but it's good to know what's possible -- sometimes you have to break the rules a little."  
  
"Wow! You saved the Hathaway and the Enterprise!"  
  
"Uh..." Wes didn't realize his little lesson on bending the Prime Directive and other Federation regulations would lead to another Wes- Crusher-saves-the-Enterprise-again story, "Well, no. Look, Briyen, you're a smart kid. I've got nothing on you. If I wanted to be ooh-ed and ahh-ed at, I would've asked Karen Nolan to have a drink with me."  
  
"Who's Karen Nolan?"  
  
"Never mind. Anyway. Didn't they ever let you do any engineering on the Neverland?"  
  
"Not directly, no. I mostly just took things apart and put them back together again. Some of the kids, they used to... well, they used to call me Tinker. Is that the worst nickname or what?"  
  
"On a ship like Neverland, you're lucky it wasn't Tinkerbell!" Wes laughed.  
  
"Tinker Bell?"  
  
"Wait a minute. You lived for two years on a ship called Neverland with a bunch of children who'll never grow up and you can recite the song 'Second Star To The Right' from memory, but you don't know who Tinkerbell is? Have you ever read 'Peter Pan'?" Briyen shook his head. Wes continued, "Kaelha's entire life was based on this story and you've never read it."  
  
"I've never even heard of it. Everything you just said, I only know it because Kaelha told it to me. Who's the author? I can look it up on my system tonight."  
  
"No no no. The only way to read 'Peter Pan' is off paper. I'll lend you my copy if you promise to be careful with it. It was my great-great- grandfather's when he was little."  
  
Briyen's eyes were wide with the appropriate reverence. "I'll be very careful. Thank you. So who is Tinker Bell anyway?"  
  
Wes smiled, "A fairy."  
  
Briyen closed his eyes in pain. "Great. All this time I've been called that nickname and I didn't even know what it meant."  
  
"Hey. Everyone gets called names."  
  
"Even you?"  
  
"Oh, god, especially me!" Wes rolled his eyes. "The Boy, Whiz Kid, Brain Trust... Orange."  
  
"Orange?"  
  
"Long story. Has to do with soda."  
  
"So what's this book about, anyway?"  
  
"A place called Neverland. While you're there, you never get any older. There's a boy who lives there named Peter Pan, and his best friend is Tinkerbell. He's got a small army of Lost Boys and they fight Captain Hook and his pirates. According to the story, Peter Pan brings children from London -- that's on Earth -- to Neverland with him: Wendy, John and Michael. But mostly Wendy, so she can tell him stories and basically be a mother to him, because he misses having a mother. But she can't stay..." Wes was beginning to realize how alike the story was to what had just happened to him. He continued, "She can't be what Peter wants her to be, she has to live her own life in her own world. And she leaves Neverland."  
  
Briyen was wrapped up in this too. Quietly he asked, "And what happened to Peter?"  
  
"He came back for Wendy's children and grandchildren to bring them to visit Neverland for a little while, but he never made any of them stay."  
  
"Huh," Briyen said, lost in his own thoughts. "I would love to borrow that book. Thanks." 


	28. Chapter TwentySeven

Chapter 27  
  
Beverly Crusher sat alone on her frontroom couch with a holophoto frame in her hands. She wasn't looking at it yet. She was putting it off for some reason. She was leaning her arm over the back of the couch, looking out at the billions of stars through the window behind her. She could remember how, from on Earth, far fewer stars were visible, and they seemed to flicker, their light bent through the atmosphere. Sometimes she felt safe within that atmosphere, as if she were protected in a dome, and keeping her son in it as well. But wild horses couldn't keep Jack in it. Heck. Forcefields, tractor beams and shields on full couldn't keep Jack on Earth.  
  
She wondered where he was right now. Was he thinking of her? Could he see her? Did he think that Starfleet was the right decision for herself and Wesley? Did he still love her?  
  
She sighed and turned away from the window. What was it with Humans and staring out windows? People spend their entire lives gazing through glass, at stars, at birds, even through their own eyes, as if people still had to wear glasses and contact lenses, back before corrective surgery made all that unnecessary. How strange that people should look through their own eyes as if they were panes of glass between themselves and freedom. Jack didn't have that barrier anymore. Where was he? He promised that they would be together forever, but he was always having adventures without her. He would go off for months into space and return with the most wonderful stories. And now she had finally gotten out into space, and he wasn't there anymore. He was one step ahead of her again.  
  
She finally looked at the holophoto. And there he was, frozen, holding a very tiny Wesley up in the air, and grinning ecstatically at him. And Wesley's four-year-old face was all grin and full of tiny teeth. She could still hear Jack's voice, feel his comforting embrace. And the creature's interference with her memories was nullified.  
  
Wes walked in and dropped a PADD on the chair near the door. He stopped when he saw his mother. "Mom? Are you okay?" He walked over to the couch and sat down beside her.  
  
She gave him a watery smile. "You know your father loved you very much."  
  
"I know, Mom."  
  
"I remember when you were just a baby, sometimes I would wake up in the middle of the night, and Jack wouldn't be in bed. I would find him sitting in the old rocking chair we had, right next to your crib, just... watching you sleep. As if he were afraid you might disappear or that someone would take you away, if he didn't keep watching."  
  
"But it wasn't me who disappeared..." Wes looked at the photo his mother was holding. "I heard that log entry from the day I was born. On the Neverland. The last time I listened to it, I remembered being so angry with him for not coming back. But it was different this time. I guess I understand better now."  
  
"I like to think he still watches you, like he did when you were a baby, making sure nothing happens to you."  
  
Wes hugged her. She held onto him for a moment, surprised by how grown-up he'd become while she wasn't paying close attention. She felt almost the same security in his arms now as she had yesterday in Jean- Luc's.  
  
"I'm sorry about all this, Mom. I never meant to make you worry."  
  
"I'm your mother," she squeezed him. "It's my job to worry about you."  
  
* * *  
  
Wes lay awake for a long time that night. He just couldn't seem to stop his thoughts. He thought about Robin and how confusing things were with her. He thought about Briyen and what type of life he would choose. He thought about Billy Nolan and worried about him never being able to get into the Academy on his current course of study.  
  
The Academy...  
  
Wes had been both anticipating and dreading Starfleet Academy. What if he's just not cut out for command? Or Engineering? Or even Security, Science, Medical? Or what if he has a wife and children, then gets killed, like his father? What if he's not Starfleet material at all? And would it be so bad if he wasn't?  
  
But he didn't know anything about anything except Starfleet. What else could he do? Live on Earth forever like Captain Picard's brother Robert, defying progress, refusing to buy a replicator, and have a son like Rene who would stargaze and wish he could be out there? Could he do anything that... mundane?  
  
He wondered if his mother was right, that his father was watching out for him, guiding him along like a guardian angel. But a mental picture of his father in long, flowing white robes and wings, playing a harp, entered his mind and he almost laughed out loud.  
  
Yet he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he wasn't considering, something being whispered in his ear just softly enough for him not to understand. Or was it just that he longed so much to have a father to guide him?  
  
Even Mozart, to whom Wes had once been compared, had his father to drag him from palace to palace with a violin and from harpsichord to pianoforte with a blindfold.  
  
Now, what made him suddenly think of Mozart?  
  
He sighed and rolled over on his stomach, burying his face in the pillow, as if not staring at the same spot on the ceiling could banish the deep and incomprehensible thoughts from his mind. It worked, and he eventually slept.  
  
* * *  
  
The Traveler smiled wearily. The boy's first step had been a difficult one, and questions needed answering now -- questions he'd never thought existed before.  
  
Wesley's guilt over not being able to help the children was misplaced. He had sensed the ability within himself and overlooked the fact that he lacked the training to use it.  
  
When he saved his mother from being trapped inside his own shrinking warp bubble, he actually phased out of what Humans consider normal time. He could do it again. He didn't think he could, but the Traveler knew he could. He could be so much more than a starship captain or a Starfleet admiral. But the decision was ultimately up to the young man.  
  
It wasn't long after this incident that the boy was finally confronted with the decision. A brief few years, in fact. A decision that, if proposed to him now, would horrify him.  
  
Leave the Federation and Starfleet and the Enterprise and his mother and Captain Picard and all of he Human race and every accostumed way of thinking behind forever. Boldly go where no man has gone before.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: You know... I'm kind of sad that it's over. Hm. I'll have to dig through my others and see what I should post next. Thanks to all who have commented, you've been fantastic and helpful! 


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